The Cartridge
A horde of mordacious words the old man fired at her
as if he were a wizened wizard
trying to elicit from her some shocked indignation.
Already shackled (of her free own will) to self-discipline, she replied:
You are like a gun which has aimed itself at me.
Don’t loiter near me even a trifle bit longer,
for you are shooting blanks,
and the cartridge I hold is wisdom’s truth.
Written April 5, 2017 for John Hamilton's Eight-Word Poetry Challenge
Words required:
1. CARTRIDGE 2. ELICIT 3. MORDACIOUS 4. HORDE 5. SHACKLED 6. TRIFLE 7. WIZENED 8. LOITER
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2017
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