The Quarter

The Quarter
Poem is © Greg Martin

It glistens,
Such a murderous weapon
Staring into the bright eyes
Of it’s victim.

Such a simple item
To the naked eye
But it can do so very much
More than you think.

It’s part of the jumble
Given to an assassin
This simple little thing…
It leads to another man’s death

In the myths of old,
The werewolf terrorizes the lands
One of the few things that could hold it back,
You hold in your hand.

Flatten it, mold it,
Turn it into something new,
A sullen man holds it now,
And lowers it to his wrist.

Now look at yourself,
Holding such a nasty killer
A nd you didn’t even know it
Don’t you feel amazed?