Blood Stains


Cold blooded, streets blooded with the bloody bloodiness of hate
Blood stains run deep in these red soaked streets
No victory in this game, only defeat, defeat of mankind
The man's mind, minds his mental blinds
So he can shut himself off from his own mind
Because in his mind he sees and hears the cries and weeps of pain
Painful pain that paints a bloody image of pain
People treat life like a game, but a game isn't real life
Real life doesn't feel like just another loss in the column
Real life feels like a painful tear for the fallen

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem