Haunted

The pointed tip of a knife in a balancing act?
Sharpened on the cutting edge waits on his finger,
Playing with time as the butcher looks on undecided,
When his next prey will come to challenge this fine blade.

Ages have gone by since it tasted blood in this house,
Possessed by ghost man and his ever present knife.
Copyright © | Year Posted 2009

Poem

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Devonshire Avatar
September 12, 2009 at 9:09 AM
Loved this! My type of poetry, for sure. I like the suspense you create and the clever way it is worded. Great work, jai! Love, Carolyn
Kendrick Avatar
September 12, 2009 at 7:21 AM
Scary tale. Keep writing. Sara
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