We both debated the hammer for a while,
looking at its worn handle,
its rusty edges,
wondering who would be the one
to finally pick it up.
You thought it was you,
as you stretched out your fingers
to the hollow wood,
ready to call it a day.
But you've used the hammer too many times before
so I couldn't let you have it this last time.
I grabbed it up before you could
and sent that last strike
into the nail
that held the coffin together.
Sometimes, ya just gotta let the emotions out.