This is a very... involved poem. The rhythm, and how it related to the content (especially the last few lines) are very important, and a bit hard to understand. I hope someone get the idea.
SPLINTER
'Twas in the wood I got it
.....A consummate art, I the artist;
.....you lag, but covet quickly barbs and spears
.....I thought were mine alone.
.....I calculate, quick, but careful,
.....and should I slip? whose heart is harshest,
.....and whose heart winces yet?
But then I could not find it
.....It's turn and turn about, you tell me;
.....no words, but bloody gestures here and there
.....that serve to suppurate.
.....I twist myself, wise, but silent,
.....and as for you? I taught you knifeplay,
.....yet now my hands are knifed.
So in my hand I took it
.....Our two spectators circle, mournful;
.....patient, but fearful yet for final blows
.....that sever limbs and ties.
.....You shatter me, stained, but vengeful,
.....and what's the price? my shivered edges,
.....cutting as they tumble.
And homeward did I bring it
.....Is it thicker or thinner, bad blood;
.....flowing, but sluggish here and there ablaze
.....engulfing all who care.
.....I hope in fear, mute, but longing,
.....and why the cage? pride binds my words fast,
.....and silences the tongue.
Splintered; even here.
