# .38 PencilA Poem by unsavable_soulThis is an introspective piece looking back at many of my pieces and the course of my writing history both good and bad. I think it's important to give consideration to the ripples we make in life
This pencil is .38 Special
My words were bullets Who's targets were always substantial I've killed monsters in this world I've destroyed lives as emptied casings dropped Around this pen my fingers curled One shot within the confines of a mind Ricocheting collateral damage Too many death certificates this hand has signed This weapon in hand to make a better reality But I'm no god Power is a double edged sword and a twisted duality These bullets sunk into flesh Not their body, heart never stopped But their mind and soul wounds forever fresh Every piece a cacophony of lead Every carefully crafted theme A menacing barrel placed against another proverbial head I sought through force to create change I looked but did not see All the lives my hand would rearrange How many times did I reload? Best of intentions But always the chamber in my mind would unload Too many ideals and sentiments I've bolstered Never calculating Should my weapon have just stayed holstered
© 2019 unsavable_soulAuthor's Note
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1 Review Added on October 20, 2019 Last Updated on October 20, 2019 Tags: Poetry, self reflection, introspection, regret, art, weapon, writing Authorunsavable_soulGotham City, FLAboutI like to play, I like to say. Many things and many ways, for I have many days. I do not ask, I do not tell. I most certainly do not waste money down the wishing well. I theorize and I terro.. more..Writing
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