How fickle are my good intentions
How wondrous a crime,
How deadly is the man that plans to poison me alive.
I hand you a token, a gift if you may.
Yet I do not know what I truly gave away.
“Use this to decorate, to celebrate
Bask in the beauty of a treasure to appreciate.”
So I stand with a smile,
My shoulders back, my body tall.
My eyes sparkle but they do not see at all.
You turn the treasure to my throat,
With angry words you hold it firm.
Deadly treasure, so I’ve learned.
No longer treasure, a weapon now.
Pierce the heart,
My mouth agape.
My body slamming to the ground.
My eyes shut. The world is dark.
So there I lie, another victim to the sword of Good Intentions.