The Knife that Lied

I had asked The knife,

‘Knife, Do you stab?!

Would you make someone Bleed?

Would you someone nab?”

And it had told me!

Told me in so many words! :

‘I only cut and chop and slice;

Make sure that no one hurts!’

‘But they say you’re the stabbing knife,

They say you dig them scars!’

Indignant, it revolted, ‘Such Lies!

I swear upon the stars!’

Oh, I’m no simple table-spoon, nor your fancy fork,

I admit I’ll cut to size, every wrongful dork’

“’Cut to size’, Knife?”, I repeated;

“And what really does that mean?

Could you draw blood, with your blade?!,

Or keep it nice and clean!?”

I try to recall what it had said;

I THINK it swore upon it’s blade,

That it had never tasted blood,

Never on human flesh it laid …

And with that, I was at peace.

It was just nice to know-

This was really no ‘stabbing’ knife,

It would not sink that low!

And there are other knives,

They seemed to be the same,

I took their word for what it said,

And not for noises lame ..!

And I write this, broken somewhere,

Coz The Knife DOES aim to kill;

How sure I was, that it DID not!

Now, ALL knives could fit the bill!

Maybe they’ll shine their blades one day.

Just like The knife, that lied.

I sit and stare and wait now;

I have sat alone and cried.