285 – The Finger Writes

Poem number 285
.
The Finger Writes
.
The finger writes, and then moves on
It leaves a bloody trail
Torn muscle, scraps of sinew
Dragged behind it like a tail
The hand from which it wrenched itself
Lies still upon the floor
The finger writes, and then moves on
Slips through the open door
.
Where to now, dear finger
Now you’re free and at your ease
Captivity behind you
You can do just what you please
Will you inch along the busy street
Or slip into the drain
Will you arm yourself for vengeance
Will you drink to ease the pain?
.
The finger writes, and then moves on
It disappears from view
I think it’s after someone
Fingers crossed it isn’t you.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s