I know I said I'd lost my edge
I've talked myself off of that ledge
How could I have been such a fool?
To think myself a useless tool
No matter how I've been abused
Hammered twisted rusted screwed
I pop back maybe not as keen
New points honed where old had been
A sharper one new hollow ground
Its polished stainless use unfound
Now craggy profile weather worn
Peaks and valleys beyond the norm
Does bluntness leave this jagged wound?
Has Occam's razor been exhumed?
Bias pared; ethos created
I'm not dull; I'm just serrated...