Last Straw

Last Straw


I thought it was over,
I thought I had moved on,
Away from him,
Away from him.

He took them,
The straws,
One by one,
Until they were almost all gone.

I held that final straw,
So tight he couldn't take it,
So tight it wouldn't move.

But he finally got it,
Finally wriggled it,
Shifted it loose.

And now he has it,
The final straw.
Taken it from me,
And waved it in my face.

He thrusts it in my face,
Gives me a smirk
And pulls it away,
Laughing as he does.

Dances around with it,
That final straw,
Attached to my heart.

He plays with it,
Uses it,
And finally burns it.

The straw burns slowly,
The burning hatred growing,
Igniting more and more of it steadily,
Greedily consuming.

He brings it close,
I back away,
He grins and hopes towards me,
I scowl and trip backards.

He holds it ever close,
Singeing my clothes,
The flames hot.

I yell in anger and hate,
Glare at him as I start to burn,
The hatred growing.

The last straw burns me,
From the outside,
From the inside.

I hate it,
I hate him.
The last straw taken away.


By: Michael Schart
Date: January 31, 2010