Some spoken,
some carelessly uttered.

Some often murmur,
years after they were thought,
from beneath the tongue,
when lips flutter.

Joy was in their learning,
they opened new doors,
they windened many arms,
they also left a few bridges burning.

Soon the vocabulary increased,
from sober to slang,
storm within lapped up every breeze.

But with time,

words lost their petals,
and sharpened their thorns,
which forgot to fend flower,
began to cut and slit even more.

words lost their honey,
and poisoned the tongue,
which forgot the kisses,
came out only for war.

All the joy they brought,
ended with chaos,
wish words could remember their pause.