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

Updated

Author

Toby

Tags

Categories

Poetry

Comments