FicWad

Sitting in its owner's hand,
The knife cries out for blood and flesh:
Yearning for the feeling of the
Life giving liquid flowing
Over its blue-metal blade;
Greedily imagines drinking in the fluid,
Tearing through the soft flesh
Of a creature;
Absolutely any creature;
Living or Dead.
It sits in his hand,
Wishing...
Wishing...
Wishing...


And it was granted its wish.

--

A/N: Yet another eighth grade poem from two and a half years ago. And, surpise, surprise! Like all but one of my pieces (Bloody Melody), this was for a school assignment! We had to choose an object and personify it. 'Twas a bit awkward, since I didn't hear the fact that it was supposed to be about something in your ROOM... Yeeaah. Well, I liked how this turned out, but I'm not sure if it should be PG or PG-13. I chose the latter just to be safe, but...

Reviews are appreciated, especially since they let me know that someone's read my work.