Some people got fired at work today...am in a dark mood and came up with this..well poetry doesn't seem half as interesting when written in a good mood, does it?
"Stained"
I have blood on my hands
Pains that won’t go away
Wash as hard as I might
Stains that won’t go away
The heart quickens now, and then more
Worry first, then rage, then tears
Swimming in a pool of disbelief
There is no place for my fears
Is sorrow what shapes us
If yes, what use is glee?
If trial is what makes us
What use of being free?
Send me to the gallows
Let me my time bid
In trial I may learn
What in freedom I never did
Reflections of why this, why me and
Wish I could have changed fate
Wash as hard as I might
I have blood on my hands mate
