Wicked CrimsonA Poem by Noofwise
Cut my wrist.
Shame bleeds across this floor. Wicked crimson of lies and guilt. Buried deep, a darkness untold. Redemption here in arterial flow. Why aren't you laughing now? © 2013 Noofwise |
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2 Reviews Added on January 9, 2013 Last Updated on January 9, 2013 Tags: deprsssion, suicide, broken Author |