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Edward Scissor Hands
Alone.
In a giant dark room
sits a man with scissors.
To scared to go out into the world.
Different, shy and weird.
Scars across his face
like cat scratch marks,
both old and new.
Hands as sharp as knives.
The colour of Mercury,
reflect the sun’s harsh rays.
The sound of them opening and closing
is a constant sound
and a continuous motion.
All alone in an abandoned mansion.
Sits trees and bushes that keep him company,
groomed to perfection.
Alone.
A man who is too scared to go out into the world
waits for the world to find him.

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