Blade

by

Thomas Leatherbarrow

Upon the surface a shine a gleam
But underneath cannot be seen

Sharp when met
But when gotten used to
You could not forget

A life alone in solitude
The sword decides not to be used

Instead to be looked at
But never drawn
For its vengeance and passion
Wish only to scorn

And people who see that clinical shine
Know that the life of that sword
Is the life of mine

NEXT?
Why don't you look at The Hopkins River
by: Francis Duggan
from: Wonthaggi, Victoria, Australia

To visit all of Thomas Leatherbarrow's poems, click HERE

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