let them talk, let them stare
let them gossip, but better beware
for their cutting tongues will themselves bleed
As their contempt nourishes the seed
so instead of blooms, there instead will be thorns
filled with the poison of their hatred and scorn
and when your garden by the thorns are choked
blame only yourself for the rage you provoked
for when the garden is fed by conciet and hate
it's no wonder the thorns overrun the gate
