Bad mouth bashers meet their matches.
And have begun to be dissed to dash.
As fast as one can bat an eyelash.
And not with a tongue done to do.
But with faith kept strengthened,
To have it seen by folks to be unprovoked...
Those with open mouths,
Closing to stop another word heard...
Disparaging another from them to come out.
These lips once quick and fixed to flap,
Seem to have run out of gas.
With a lowering of their embarrassed heads.
To refuse to say to avoid anything said,
For the purpose to undermine or criticize,
Anyone they will not soon forget to remember...
To have brought upon and caused them regret,
That has left them to express...
Undeniable dread to feel it addressed.
And...done to do effectively.
With a leaving these bashers booted.
Lips shut to pucker. Or licked to then droop.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem