Today i took all sharp objects
And put them in a bag
With a draw string
And pulled it tight
Then put it away somewhere safe

Theres no way I can chuck these things away
What happens when i need to slice the bread
If I have no knife
Will I have to tare at the loaf like the knife tares my skin
Still being reminded of the reason why I havn't got the knife
And what happens when i need to draw a circle
Will the plate be ok to draw around
but what if the plates too big
Will i get frustrated and smash the plate
Making more sharpe edges to play with
What if the screws need turning to make them tight
Will the ***** driver find its way into my hand
Will the screws get tightened
Will I wonder the nail look more inviting than the driver
Will i place it back in the bag
thats the question I ask my self

And you look into my eyes and say
this bag is not here to keep these things from you
Its just here to remind you to put them away
To keep them out of sight
Until you really need them

So I want to know
Why With the pen (which I know is sharp)
have you placed a notepad in the bag
How can the note pad hurt me ?

I look deep
And sweet poetess you know the answer
There may be no god today
There may be no blue skies
No rainbows to warm your soul
No sunshine
Only rain and the bitterness of life
But with the pen and paper you can create
Your own world
Full of magic and belief
shooting stars and beautiful dreams
Or you may just wish to slash at the pages
with the pen and pretend the paper is your wrist

I my self would like for you to spit your pain upon
the sheets of paper so i know how your feeling
And when i know how your feeling
I can try to give the words you need

Be it only to know that some one
gives a dam
about how your feeling right now