JK ( / )

Bound Wrists

Knives and blades all the same
One slash, two slashes, three slashes your all up in flames
Eager to hunt, eager to kill
One push into the rain, I start to become ill
These cuts that bind my wrist do me no good
As I wonder in deep thought 'will I suceed? '
I ask you to save me even though I knew you would
But will I follow thy's edvice or will I flee?

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 2

Comments (2)

I have such a different view of bound wrists that initially, my own view imposed on and frustrated the words of this poem. But as I stepped out and tried to read it fresh, I began to enjoy and appreciate its words on their own right. Peace, L&T
I like. A ten from me. -shannon