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Ratchet Hatchet

When the ratchet brandished a hatchet for to bludgeon a person of heart,
the ammunition loaded inside the cruel weapon was a poison pen shaped like a dart.

Took his throw unprovoked to pierce,
his words sharpened and drenched in hatred,
his face repugnant and gnarled with needless malice.

Reap, sow.
Karma, grow.

Published in2015Poetry

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