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The Cutting Edge
April 6, 2010
“I’m sick of this, Dawn.”
He said, slamming his
Fist
On the table. She didn’t
Reply.
He watched while her lip
Searched
For a cut on the edge of
The glass.
It finally found one.
She didn’t reply.
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This article has 1 comment.
wind.and.rain.again BRONZE said...
on Nov. 3 2010 at 7:39 pm
wow. this is great! i dont really get it but thats how the best poems r. it has a great rythm even tho its short
