Cutting Poem by Stephen Holloway

Cutting



The loud noise of the fist on the pulpit
Cuts through my head
Like a gravel

What the man is saying
Cuts through my soul
Even more.

In the front row is a person
Off in his own world
His stare cuts through mine

Why must I sit here, being
Cut through and through
When I don't know who I am?

Stephen Holloway
Saturday, May 12, 2012
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POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
The inspiration for this poem came at a time when I was going through some hard times, I was struggling, and I went to church and the man talking was talking about the exact problem i was having. His words seemed to cut through me. At the same time there was an autistic young man that was staring directly at me, giving me the chills.
COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Simon Collins 12 May 2012

I like this poem, very interesting, thank you

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Kaia Grønnbæck 12 May 2012

I would love to know more about this poem. If you dont mind. Its really....intense. So it peaks my interest: -)

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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem
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Me=you
Cutting
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