My Mistake

Let them say what they may,

Let them devastate you with words,

For you are made of stone,

And unless they spout water,

They will not wear you away.

 

Let the slings and arrows hail upon you,

And care not to shield yourself with your hands,

Let the wounding continue,

For you are made of stone,

But I guess that will not help you here.

 

Let my words pass overhead,

And while you are indeed already dead,

Forgive me for such falsehoods,

I am only the writer,

I am not the warrior,

And this pen is not mightier than their swords.