That Hatchet

 
I was sharpened and placed on the wall as a display.

Watching people come in and go every other day.

One day A man with a glisten in his eyes came in.

Set down a shotgun for me, quite an odd trade in.

I felt his grip and he was mighty strong indeed.

The exchange was made, then I was hastily sheathed.

Enclosed but I could feel the fresh air and peek of the sun.

Still wondering why this man would trade for me with his gun.

A brisk walk the footsteps hastened almost like godspeed.

Little did I know I was created to kill and make someone bleed.

Darkness now, nothing could be seen but I felt his grip.

Swung through the air into the head I cleanly split.

It was like a panic attack it all happened so fucking fast.

Lost count after 30 swings, dripping blood into the bloodbath.

He turns me over and gives me a bold smile and wink.

Rewarded with a long nice warm bath in that kitchen sink.

Dried off well and placed on the wall above his fireplace.

He was always silhouetted, never got to see his face.

He told me stories of the many people he has killed.

Laughing as he points to the knife on the window cill.

He says don’t worry my friend, you will see more action soon.

He laughs and says we shall do it next time in mid afternoon.

The edge of my blade was my smile and I was full of pride.

Even though I am just a hatchet I also have feelings inside.