No pressure at my neck.
Just the look on his face,
One I've seen too many times,
And the angle of his arm.
I look down, and what I see barely registers.
A glint of silver,
The sudden flicker of knowledge,
The feeling of trust as I don't think.
I only act. One flick and I prove the blade at my collar isn't sharp,
At the risk of my tongue.
But I knew it wouldn't be.
The look, half unsurprised half annoyed, on his face is perfect,
Caught in the street light,
And I can't help but smile. All the times there's been a blade to my neck,
Always wielded by a friend,
The times it's drawn blood, the times it hasn't...
I don't even flinch any more.
And as I walk, happily pinning him, I can't help but note There's only one difference between then and now.
I know my knife carrier won't hurt me in the now.
And it brightens my step a little more.
Sunday, July 08, 2007
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3 comments:
its a nice poem about acceptance and being happy with it.
most of us can only accept what comes our way without being capable of brightening our step.
you should be proud of yourself.
:)
mmmmm yea... thnx.
hmm right descriptin of what i say "lite le yaar"
:)
good job!
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