240 – Perspective

Poem number 240
There is a splinter under my fingernail
It hurts when my finger touches stuff
Quite a lot of pain for such a small thing, really
And that got me thinking about Nazis acting tough
And jamming wedges under people’s nails
To make them talk. Sadistic little shites.
I got my splinter from a broken chair
Which is less sadistic. And the lights
Are not in my eyes either, and I haven’t been beaten
To within an inch of death
And no one wants me to spill any beans
Through hoarse and gasping breath.
I just have a splinter under my nail
And it hurts. But I’m not going to whine
It’s nothing in the scheme of things really
Certainly not Nazis. I’ll be fine.


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