Murdered by My Own Words

Hey everyone! This is another poem analyzing another personality type in high school. Last time, it was the pessimist about love. This time, its the person who seems narcissistic about his opinions.

Sticks and stones will break my bones,

Because words will definitely hurt me,

Since I allow no others except myself to speak,

Because otherwise I will be seen as being weak.

So, I saw this kid the other day,

I was like 'Oh crap, that guy',

The kid who never has anything to say,

I don't understand him, but I don't care why,

Because I don't care about things that make no sense to me.

So, of course, I don't let a word in from him edgewise,

Through the power of argument that fools devise,

I shot down everything he said, filled his gun with lots of lead,

I ensured his words and thoughts were very much dead.

You know, it just seems to be the socially correct thing to do,

Everyone does the same to me, so I must do the same to you.

They say all opinions matter, but I know that's horse-crap,

Or else our opinions wouldn't get so often capped,

Shot down like it met the business end of a Winchester,

Peppered with pellets like a garden hose goe with its screw looser,

I feel like a murder victim every time I open my mouth,

So why should I be the only ones when there are others,

Others whose opinions I deem we could do without,

Because, as a society full of opinions, we do not care for one another's.

Sticks and stones and guns will break my bones because words will definitely hurt me,

Because I get hurt with guns for saying many words,

Because, when it comes to saying words, we are not so free.