Stay thy tongue, offensive toad,
We like not what thou dost say.
From forked tongue comes a verbose load
of words for which thou shalt pay.
Hear not we the satire,
nor the unrelenting sadness
as thy mocking words expose a world
embracing serious madness.
Hear we thought naught critical
of existing perception,
aye, stay thy tongue, oh merciless devil;
In silence, no exception.
Ladies, Gentlemen, I do beseech,
grant this devil one more speech.
Is a word, and it’s reception
not the manifest of thy perception?
My tongue is neither bullet nor blade,
Why then dost thou call it stayed?
Why, men may wound and mar and maim,
but I the one who takes the blame?
For choosing as my only sword
the harmless, sarcastic, spoken word.
A debate may be an ire, or bore
but preferable is that to war.
If all we did was speak our minds
for battle there would be no time.
For actions louder than words do speak
and actions, not words make futures bleak.
A battle of wits requires not strong arms,
but stronger minds, and much less harm.
And offense to words can be entombed
in ignorance; The same not true for wounds.
So I’ll stay my tongue, aye, I’ll cut it out.
And see how thou dost cope without
the chance for debate via reason and thought
Or satire nonsensical and fool’s words wrought.
An equal footing between offender and offended,
shall die when my flapping tongue be mended.
Instead, you’ll replace my words with violence.
Aye, I’d take loud offense, over silence.