Cowardly Deed Poem by Brad Kellum

Grasping the apathetic handle in my hand.
Pondering the moment when to enact my plan.
Sweat breaking upon my brow.
Hearing the distant cry of the ravens caw.
Lay the plastic down, to obtain the mess is a must.
When the time comes, such an arduous gush.
Gripped in my hand the edge is turned,
upon completion, left to scream and burn.
Falling forward only thoughts.
Cleaving, slicing, pushing through with ease.
Knowing everyone shall be so displeased.
Consummated, deed done,
the coming of the numbing warm.
Pooling life surrounds my alarm.
Lightly tapping me on my shoulder,
turning to look I feel his shun.
What's been done cannot be undone.
What shall be is still to come.
With this last breath what have I done.