If I would hear the breathing <br />of an angry man and his knife, <br />when that deadly sharp <br />he shall flick to my neck, <br />a prelude before the swipe, <br /> <br />in a few seconds, I know <br />I must be dead and forget <br />the earth and be forgotten; <br />nothing else even matter <br />when it shall be done <br /> <br />and my thoughts wouldn't be <br />of myself or a pity <br />that I'd be dead <br />the acres of corns I'd leave behind; <br /> <br />but the calmness of your face <br />somewhere, brewing coffee, <br />folding my khakis, <br />tending the kids, <br />and thinking I'd be home <br />by six.<br /><br />Melanie Agua<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/before-the-kill/
