HePo
Classics
Words
Blog
F.A.Q.
About
Contact
Guidelines
© 2024 HePo
by
Eliot
Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads.
Become a member
Al Drood
Poems
Nov 2018
The Knife
Arcing head over heel,
gleaming redly beneath
roadside halogen lights,
I rise and fall.
Impact ripples flood outwards
as I cut the still waters
of some nearby pond.
I drift haphazardly now,
past torpid winter fish,
down into cold sedimented depths.
The outer world soon becomes
a distant memory as I settle quietly
in a small cloud of softly rising mud
amongst dead and forgotten things.
Unwanted by the hand
that caressed me, I am a pariah,
spurned by he who used me once to ****.
And I, even tempered,
my body honed to perfection,
can now only look forward
to corrosionβs living death.
Written by
Al Drood
M/North Yorkshire
(M/North Yorkshire)
Follow
π
π
π
π
π
π€―
π€
πͺ
π€
π
π¨
π€€
π
π’
π
π€¬
0
99
Please
log in
to view and add comments on poems