Cut my index finger preparing a glitzy scarf for
Friday 5 September ‘bling-bling' day at work; a
great project - wrong time - never do this while
watching a fantasy film on the side, of wizards
floating in soap bubbles flanked by crystals of
emerald and neon leaves
I wielded my pair of scissors just as a wicked
witch deceived her people, seeing the big hats
gave me ideas how to decorate my own hat in
sequins but with bright-red blood everywhere
preparation came to a stop as a burning pain
took centre-stage, finally used the plaster kept
In my cupboard for an age; - typing had blood
flowing again: the queen of Oz wouldn't reveal
the wizard's weakness to keep hope alive and I
realise every weak pawn can be used to greater
effect if we're willing to employ anything without
questioning, as long as we sacrifice pride
And self-righteousness - while refusing to be
judgmental, we can change the world and see
hope fulfilled, giving praise long before it has
been earned - here's hoping these lessons
learned shall be applied in my life and no
more cutting myself with scissors or knife
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poems are like a personal diary which, generously, you let us read. They are full of interesting detail and humour. I shall read on! Tom Billsborough