Posted in Creative Writing


I thought by now the blood
would have reached my fingertips
I wait for red-tinged lips
I wait for courage

I thought by now my tears
would have run dry
but no – other things have
like the dams in our city

I thought by now winter
would have come to bring death
and the return to life hereafter
but the sun stays, illuminates our sins

I knew that blood runs red
I didn’t know much of it we’d see
running pointlessly in the streets
and in homes of theĀ people we wanted to love

I guess by now the blood
has reached my fingertips
red-tinged for violence or strength
only for us to choose which



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