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Nov 03, 2022
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Red Is Dead
There is Red laying on the floor
He has bled he is bleeding more
He was hit in the head from behind
You can see parts of his exposed mind
It was a dark night full of pouring rain
Red knew one way to get rid of his pain
He took a metal hammer and hit it in
It went down deep, deep under his skin
Now Red is pouring out on the floor
Red bled until he was Red no more
The scars Red now wears upon his hide
Are not as deep as the scars he wore inside
About This Poem
Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft
Comments
Rula
2 years 8 months ago
Hello D
This is just kinda my cup of tea.
You know I am from Palestine and your words evokewhat daily goes ther. We are all Red in a way.
And each human is Red in one way or another.
Bitter sweet is your poem.
I really like it.
Thanks for sharing.
Depressed 1
2 years 8 months ago
Thanks
Thanks for reading and the nice comment.
RoseBlack
2 years 8 months ago
A powerful write
I agree with Rula that we are all Red in some way. The internal pain and scarring is far worse than any physical of the same. In one way or the other, we just want it to stop. Great job.
Depressed 1
2 years 8 months ago
Thanks
Thanks RoseBlack