They say blood is thicker than water
But what could be thicker than the air
That clogs the lungs of my father
And blankets this town in despair
If blood is what gives me life
Then why does it sting in my veins
The blood you gave me floods my eyes
But when it reaches my cheeks, it never stains
Is blood alone what does the trick
Are my tears and screams not good enough
To provoke your worries, to show you I’m sick
Do I need to bleed to earn your trust?
If that’s the case, step in line
It’s time for my final bow
Speak your piece, say your goodbyes
I won’t be coming back around
You may see my face
Or you may hear my voice
But there will never be a trace
Of my blood; I’ve made my choice
For you, I’ve held my tongue
Painted a smile, lived in need
In twenty years, I’ve never run
But I will run before I bleed
- Author: SheWasTheSun ( Offline)
- Published: July 3rd, 2017 23:41
- Comment from author about the poem: "There is nothing to writing. All you have to do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed". ~Ernest Hemingway
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 65
- Users favorite of this poem: lostgirl24
Comments1
Very beautiful and strongly written! I really love this poem!
Thank you! That means a lot, I'm so glad you enjoyed!
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