Given the title; write the poem. Hmmm...
Jaundiced Outlook
Knives and daggars.
I never understood how one could swing them at themself.
But you do this.
Cutting your face and hands.
The world around you is full of life and beauty.
Yet you rip the branches off trees and stomp through flower beds.
Who gave you the right to steal away and destroy?
Flinging words at people and things and nothing.
Filling up space.
Until you can't see and no one else can either.
The cloud you have erected
Dredging misery as you throw
Knives and daggars.
© Ginger Galloway 2013
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