sticks and stones may break my bones
but words will never hurt me
you sit and you plot
my fate you surmise,
though we've never met
you selfmedicate on our lives.
stood in your right
to be human and free
without thought for innocence
or its blood that will bleed.
all of us are different
in many ways, nothing new
but none need deemed unworthy,
by the small likes of you.
the pulse beats on,
another pub, another street,
people will live to remember
and for those lost, we will weep.
but for you, what you claim
they leave, left lay to the dust
and though repent now you may,
I pray in ashes you rust.