Of Half-truths and Hurt

Sticks and stones may break your bones,
But words can never hurt you –
Is something you always told me Mama,
Is something I wish to unlearn, I do!

They arraigned, they jeered, they sniggered,
They stood there shaking their heads,
I stood there in pigtails, eyes glistening,
I cried late into the night in my bed.

Then I heard the lady at church whisper
That God’s been good to them all the time!
Then He’s been simply horrid to us,
I don’t quite understand His Paradigm.

Her boy survived the crash, you see
Oh, God protected him, alright!
My Papa lies cold in the casket,
I guess, God just forgot to be nice?

So I’d rather they came at me
With massive sticks and stones instead!
For their words tease and torment me,
Their colloquy could wake the dead.

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