Sharpened Fingers

About the Human Race

Sharpened fingers,

Always poking in my face,

Is what I remember the most,

About the human race.

If your words, had been oxygen,

We would all have choked, on your hate,

So, forgive me please, now and then,

If I chose, not to participate.

Only a creator, sitting high in judgment,

Could possibly spare.

Your thin neck, in a heavy rope,

With all your insides, laid bare.

Only you, it seems, will pay that final price,

Before you will ever, get on your knees,

And say a prayer to Christ.

Reviews

[emmajoygreen]

There is so much of the 'ouch' emotion to your words: the sum of the whole and how it stings the all around. The human race holds significan poison in its activities.. a push and shove out of place by one force and a dive into hell by another one. Peace, tolerance and respect for sane connetions are words that will disappear from sight.. or become what once was - ancient. The human race is losing pace, will end up up defunct - not merely as straggler.. but, gone. Perhaps? For sure? Your words make a reader think and weigh up reality.. Thank you

[D. Mansfield]

I havent given up on us yet, but we are not what we are capable of thats for sure. my writing seems to naturally migrate towards the dark side so I dont fight it very often, thank you for reading this