Sherlock poetry: I Am Not Safe

Yes I'm a dork.  I wrote Sherlock poetry.  But it's fun. So there.

And yes, before you ask, I was inspired by a quote from CS Lewis' chronicles of Narnia...

"Safe? Who said anything about safe? Of course he's not safe.  ...But he's good."  It encapsulates my feelings about Sherlock's almost childlike passion, corralled desperately within a dispassionate and calculating shell and governed by a fiery morality utterly divorced from the negotiable dictates of culture.  ...And then there is his ghoulish, troublesome and dark fascination with the unusual, not yet explored.  

I Am Not Safe

by A.R. Carter

I am neither safe nor tame,

and look through you with little shame.

But you’re not thinking what you should,

I must remind you, I am good.

I speak and I may slice your soul,

though I might think my wit is droll,

that pain is just the gulf between

your ego and sufferings unseen.

And there you are! I see you now,

though you won’t understand just how

a little word barely uncouth

in your eyes shall reveal the truth.

I smell the passing footsteps gone,

had they on cobbles walked or lawn,

or shaved with pine tar soap and rust,

had shirts well cleaned with lady’s trust.

I see the angry cretin’s game

in battered walking-sticks for lame,

or seen a fortune won and lost

in battered hat once of high cost.

You might see compassion flit

across my face as we both sit,

and quietly my own eyes see,

you’re neither safe nor hap’ly free.

But perhaps it’s merely grin frenetic,

for crime of interest academic.

You’ll never really tell with me.

That’s something only John can see.