Wrong Cut - Ian Duquemin

One day they'll cut me open to examine my interior
Discussing me as hollow, maybe soulless or inferior
And as they slice and probe at things they may wish to preserve
They just might slip and aggravate a last remaining nerve
In disinfected shock and awe I'll open up my eyes  
Wearing grotesque stitches as a frightening disguise
I'll let them beg forgiveness whilst amidst their routine gore
Then stand to prove them very wrong... And walk out of the door

Ian Duquemin