“Cold steel” A old poem.
Cold steel
A Poem by Coyote Poetry

Old poem (1980) with a rewrite. Anger can lead us to hell. After the pits of hell. Can’t get worst?
Cold steel
Baby, I told you.
Ain’t no heart in my chest.
I’m just a body that does the daily functions.
I’m dead.
I died a long time ago.
I could tell you a story,
but my words are even locked up now.
You are young,
still able to love.
Don’t give your love to a man who eyes are dead.
It is a myth that you can bring back the dead to life.
Cold steel can only melt on the trip to hell.
When you can’t remember the good times and the tender moments.
You are just a body waiting for the end.
I have the hunger to touch the beautiful things.
I’m well-trained and I will eat you alive.
Leave you for dead.
I won’t care if you are laying in sadness and self-pity.
Cool steel is my name.
My hunger is to look into the eyes of dark Angels.
Who will dance the twisted dance of who can punish the other more.
I may tell you I love you.
Just words. Just a means to get you to invite me into the
warmth of your warm flesh,
till I release my desire into flesh and bones.
I was told time heal all wounds.
One more lie, given to us by people trying to pry the
kindness out of us.
I don’t desire love.
I don’t want your pity.
Don’t need nothing but to dance in the heat of the warm flesh.
If you want me to love you, my child.
You should escape now.
For the wall of my heart is mighty tough.
On my trip to hell.
I won’t tell no stories.
I was the man called Cold Steel.
I told you I’m dead.
If you are a fool.
Try to break down the steel wall.
One day.
I will kiss you goodbye and
I will watch your tears fall.
I will tell you.
You wasted your love on a man with a steel heart and with no emotion.
I will leave you without feeling any regret.
So my child.
Walk away.
For something can’t be changed.
Iwas dead and buried. A long time ago.
I can’t remember when or why I died.
Cold steel is my name.
Coyote
1980
A fantastic poem. 🙂
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Thank you Brenda. A very old poem.
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An oldie but a goldie as they say. 🙂
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“When you can’t remember the good times and the tender moments”….wow…I should have read this poem years and years ago….before I “died.”
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You ain’t dead till death comes. Always a chance to be wild and free once again.
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I don’t know about wild but I am free. 🙂
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