Changeable Poem by Edwina Reizer

Changeable



There is a knife with a very sharp blade.
Sometimes I think that’s how I am made.
Ready to cut through anything,
wound up like a ball of string.
But when I’m calm and not uptight
the blade becomes dull and I’m alright.
I always wonder what makes me this way.
But at least I can control it.
I can put the knife away.

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