3/31/18 7:33PM
One drink to take the edge off
Another to break the blade
A third to patch it together
And a whole bottle of wine to make it cut again
I have sharpened myself so many times
Yet I cut nothing
There is a block of knives out there, filled with dulled and blunt instruments
They leave the counter in their camrys
And their Mercedes
And they all put on a business casual suit made of sand
Just to make a buck
And march, march back to the block
Into the hole made for you
And stay there until you get sharp enough
To be dulled again