A Collection of Writing

This site is merely a collection of poems, short stories, and occasionally other musing by Robert Streiff. If you're a friend, an enemy, or a curious bystander who happened across this page, by all means, enjoy your visit, and feel free to offer any advice, comments, or criticisms, they are all appreciated.

Saturday, July 24, 2010

Sledgehammer

A sledgehammer to a car
Would do better to my health
Than the knife at my wrist

But I don't have a sledgehammer.
Or a car at hand.
Or the strength to wreck either.

But a knife, I can find.
And my wrist carries with me.
And my life is already wrecked.

The glass in my hand,
Is quickly filling empty.
But my mind is still full,
And growing in strength.

They race nightly,
Rage, and despair
Each hoping for a victory
Me, hoping for distraction.

Sledgehammer is lifted
And put through the glass
But is it my glass the shatters?
A windshield?

Or me?

(Original date 7/4/2010)

No comments:

Post a Comment