Poetry # 4 The Knife | A bloody Poem

in #poetry7 years ago

16508238_1574708785879630_6956453770494393066_n.jpg

Not just once but hundreds I laid on them,
I can hear their voices with a tempting rhythm.
One careless touch from me it could be teary,
Listening from those insults and complaints
that I’m miserable and messy.

They hold me with care and
sometimes they’re so mean and unfair.
Up and down, push and pull,
Side to side , they’ll jump
and shout when I’m about to fall.

16386912_1574708649212977_4988707322860227480_n.jpg

I can taste sweet, sour, bitter and tasteless,
I can hear thousands of please oh please saying
don’t let my life turns to meaningless.
I could not forget one night time,
When I was part of an unexpected crime.

16473637_1574708912546284_6450117848645641279_n.jpg

It was bloody, it was blurry as the dawn came, the innocents blamed me.
How could this be? It’s never my intention but they force me.
Sometimes they leave me to nowhere when they’re done using,
Sometimes they keep me to be silent to cover those confusing.

I am dangerous.
I am sharp.
I am who I am.
I am a KNIFE.

logo-1516117725334.png

Photographer : @missdonna

Model : @gohenry

Sort:  

Nice poem po. Xx

Thank you for commenting as well as appreciating this poem @sherylneil