Somehow these things always happen at the end of exams.
An accident, they said, of course,
And you stood watching from the gate,
No smile of triumph on your face;
He'd gone. All you could do was wait.
He left you nothing in his will -
He gave you nothing when alive,
Except a swathe of bruises and
Determination to survive.
You bought yourself a kitchen knife
To see what you could do with it;
You caught yourself a kitten, but
You couldn't quite go through with it...
I need at least another two lines, damn it, and it won't happen, but I'm not too unhappy with it up to there. (Look, it must be poetry! It rhymes! ~rolls eyes~) And yes...it was inspired by that photograph I was making such a fuss about...