Wednesday, February 8, 2012

A knife story

Cold silver blade lies patiently by the bed side,
Waiting for that moment to be held by cold tiny hands,
A feeling of love,
A feeling of being wanted,
A feeling of touch,
Is all that is needed?
To know where not alone after all,
A feeling of pain,
A feeling of guilt,
A feeling of sadness is all that it took,
The once clean silent blade now is covered in a crimson red.

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