Poem: New Powers

It started with his hair,

Hands,

Nose,

To knives and edges,

To blades.

Cool for a moment,

Yes,

That would be as it would seem,

If you wanted to be a living weapon,

This would be the honoring of those dreams,

And for the first day,

It was cool,

Even with his rule,

Of not killing fools,

But once he got a good sweat going,

Got all the work done,

Got used to knowing,

That he was a weapon without owning a gun,

He had to use the bathroom.

Special thanks to: Melissa Potter

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