Blood

It is said that blood is the memory of our past
It holds in every cell of the ones that have long gone
When we cut and bleed out we lose part of our past
All on hardened floor that people stepped on

People
Stepped
On

So instead of losing what little drops of the past
I find a pen and tip it in,
before it dries into a gelatinous mass
and write out,
I am sorry that this has happened.
I will not forget you; I carry you always within,
I see the rain is coming to wash you into oblivion
I am so sorry.
You see the temperature rose too quickly for my body to hold you in
The spill that came from my nose was because the temperature was beating to get in.
I managed to stop the rest and keep you inside
But for the rest of you I am so sorry.
I will carry on and I Will Survive.
My blood will hold the memory of the past.
To give the next generation a feeling of home at last
I see their eyes shaking with pity at me.
What is wrong with her? why is she down there on her knees?
They don't understand. One day they will.
Not once did someone stop to give me a hand
Or question the blood that I spill.
I will go inside to make sure that this will not happen a second time
for my blood is my connection to my past
to my present
and to the future that I……see???