My Words May Hurt

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I could never grasp the concept of sugar-coating,

You know, sparing someone's feelings

I think it's just a bullshit concept

To expedite the healing.

See my words are no prissy version of Thanksgiving that they teach you in elemetary school because you are "still children", and your parents think you're "not old enough"

Nah, see my words can slice through your soul like you're playing baseball with a barb-wired bat

The truth I speak will make you rethink your whole existence, questioning if you should back-track

I could offer some of the sweetest advice, that could save your life,

Or most of the time I could say some hurtful truth that may be just a little bit rude.

My "I don't give a damn about your feelings" game is too strong.

I speak from what I see, whether I'm right or wrong.

My speech has no censor bar

Some characterize it as aberrant

Viewer discretion advised

I suggest you ask your parents.

I speak for a reason

It's not my prerogative to talk just because

I may say some things

That your priest may not approve of.

I don't need a filter for the words that I speak.

That's like the quiet kid in English class,

And I refuse to be seen as weak.

My intellect is my power,

My strength,

My culture,

My individuality,

The source of who I am.

A filter is just a way to hide all of that.

And that gives me even more reason not to give a damn.

This poem is about: 
Me

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