The
stories I can tell
You
could not believe
Or
would choose not to
Smooth
in my skin
Of
silver-gray,
I
cast shadows
In
both darkness and in light
I’m
multifunctional,
Or
so they continue to prove,
Smooth
in coat
Yet
sharp of tongue
I
can create
Or
destroy
If
I grow dull
Out
of hiding
The
whetstone comes
Great mash up of words and speak, as the sword can truly make one leak. But go dull with time after committing any old crime.
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