Rope: a poem

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I am a means to leave the world
By the orders of others, men die by my hands
Once I have my hold, they cough and curl
I have their life held by a strand
Slowly depriving them of their essential needs
I am a rope strung on a plank
Another knot to hold the place of their brothers
For those who watch my deeds
My cruelty causes them to shudder

Others have different reactions
Some may be complicated
Some just don’t care
But for this one boy
I caught him with my glare
For I had killed a younger one of his kind
A slow suffering, compared to the others it was unfair
By that time he already thought that his God was blind
But my cruel grip finally convinced him that he had died.

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