Ice packs
Are bound
To become
Blood-stained
Isn't that
What ice packs are for?
Kids are going to hurt themselves
They're going to bleed
That's why
We wrap the ice packs
In washcloths
Or paper towels
Depending on
The severity
It'll get bloody
From time to time
But that's okay
That's life
The sting lets you know
You're still living
And breathing
It'll heal
And you'll want to pick at the scab
And the blood will come back
You'll have to deal
With the stinging cold water all over again
But at least you're alive
At least you're still here
YOU ARE READING
Leaving Behind the Endless Fields of Corn and Soybeans
PoetryEveryone has that one place in their heart. The two will always be connected, whether they love that place, or hate that place. My place? My town? I love it, I hate it. I've left it behind. This collection of poetry is about the place, the town, tha...
