A wise old owl lived well in a tree downtown.
He left his perch to soar by the beautiful sights
and admire the creations that lived with the world’s renown,
but all he saw was carping and hordes starting fights.
He fell to the roof and heaved an enormous sigh.
Futile words of poison and strife were all that he heard.
“I hate what you say. I’m going to make you cry!”
“That’s not what I meant. You’re thinking is truly absurd.”
The wise old owl looked down with a tear in his eye.
Where are the words that heal and bring new zest?
Do you not know the truth that you should apply?
Those words help them, but they make you quite blessed.
Said he that sticks and stones can break my bones,
but words filled with love are mighty steppingstones.