Not Dull

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...