Words are a Tool
My sister who does not share my blood
Lost her father one cold and empty February.
It may have been only a year so,
But since then, it’s been an eternity.
The one thing I noticed on those lonesome days,
Were the certain words people chose to say,
They caused me great frustration
Because there was no feeling in any way.
“I’m sorry,” people muttered quietly
While my friend stared out at the cold.
That phrasing has been used so often,
From the young, and by the old.
Some days later, I brought this up
Wondering what she thought,
“Why must people always apologize
When they share no blame for what’s been wrought?”
She replied, “It’s just what people say,
When they don’t know what words to use.”
“But that really doesn’t make much sense,”
I aggressively accused.
“If you’re always using words that way
They eventually lose what they mean,
The feeling is lost by frequent use,
I’ve learned this from what I’ve seen.”
Lightly tipping her head to the side,
With my heartfelt words she did agree.
Without much thought, words cease to feel
And this I don’t understand, why others can’t see.
“I promise,” “I wish,” “I’m sorry,”
“It isn’t all that bad.”
Constantly used, consistently ignored,
And there are many more to add.
Words are tools with special meanings
That contribute to who we are,
But if we keep using them like we do,We won’t go very far.