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deepundergroundpoetry.com
Cut me
There she lays
My silver slicer
Smiling in steel
Striking in sterling
"Cut me, cut me"
An arm beckons
But nothing
And there she prays
By the bedside
For relief
Her breath stuck
Inside her torn stomach
Wet in tears
Years of doubt and fears
The knife sits
In the draw
Still sad
A blade uncut
Untouched by sadness
Not a drop
To weep upon
"Cut me, cut me"
But nothing!
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