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Bloody Jeans Printable Version PRINTABLE VERSION
by warHazards, Vietnam May 27, 2004
Media   Poetry

  

Going in the morning.

It was raining.

The water was splashing.

Drops were flying.

Saving my jeans,

I was thinking,

"What I am trying?

To save...

To save..."


I started working.

I worked until I cut my hand,

And the blood was flowing.

It was raining,

I saw the red painted dots,

On the floor,

On my jeans,

Which I was trying,

To save...

To save...


I forgot giving,

You, your medicine,

In the morning.

My hand is hurting,

And I am afraid,

To give you medicine.

It seems like I don't care,

But, something in me,

Dark and sticky,

Keeps bothering,

Who the hell I am trying

To save…

To save…

To save anymore…





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warHazards


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Comments


April | Jul 29th, 2004
I like your poem. Its lovely.

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