What a monster my vocal chords
A sentence screamed like a soaring battle axe
At a man who threatened my existence
If I don't keep them tamed
I might say something so useless
Monster enemies will gobble me up effortless
I think I'll stop speaking
Am honorary verbal suicide
For now I'll just write
Words so redundant and trite the ink flops dead
Like a soldier on a battlefield between lines
Every form of communication feels like war zone
Where verbs, adjectives, and nouns are deployed
Little atom bombs in the air
I feel my fingers itching for a pen
I'll stab every last one of them
But speech and script descend and despair my ideas
Like modern technology
No
I'm just too rusty
A saber rotting in its sheath
Shrapnel slinging ideologies!
Bullet flowing oratories!
I'm cutting off my ears and tongue tomorrow
And absorbing the last rounds of your stupidity today
My final wounds on my final day
Scars to show what a monster you are
Oh dear...there go my words again
Bombs away!
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