Watch
Bloodwatch it run
through your fingers
to the floor
Blood
watch it run
crimson rivulets
to the door
Blood
watch it wash away
like it was never
there
watch it fade
like you fade
And watch it
disappear
Watch
BloodA poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness. It finds the thought and the thought finds the words.
Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.
Title | Comments | Submitted |
---|---|---|
Title | Comments | Submitted |
Give till there's nothing left | 0 | 08/02/2009 |
Over and Over Again | 0 | 08/02/2009 |
Watch | 0 | 08/02/2009 |
Mask | 0 | 08/02/2009 |
An Ominous Fog | 0 | 06/24/2009 |
Bloodlust | 0 | 06/24/2009 |
Your Eye's | 0 | 02/27/2009 |
Corrupted Souls | 0 | 02/27/2009 |
And she wrote | 2 | 02/26/2009 |
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