Cuts like a knife

How could you do this to my soul, my heart,

And reject this poem, brimming with art?

I wrote it long ago when I was so young

And now it gushes, or is it too long?

This poem I reworked so many times!

As I sat myself down to start to revise

I worked so hard, and I did my best!

But I say uncle, I must acquiesce.

I hang down my head, again I begin,

I’ll revise as you wish and send out again.

 

 

By Joan E. Cashin