here he is trying to hone a craft, <br />like, grinding the knife on a stone <br /> <br />thinking of an enemy, its name is boredom <br />trying to sharpen the tongue, in the name <br /> <br />of accuracy, like the lashes of the sticks <br />upon a rock, its style is punishment, but <br /> <br />surely, there is always a reason why, like <br />loving someone, suffering and ready for the <br /> <br />next cut, the breaking of another morning, <br />from a dark room, where two shadows dance alone.<br /><br />RIC S. BASTASA<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-metaphor-for-dedication/
