That sick reminder of my reflection upon what was ended. The blood streamed down the frame of shame. When I tilted my head over I was surprised with the child from the other side. I reached my hand out and so did the child. With its bloody hands, it reached out and the next thing I saw was the scenery of what was just behind me.
YOU ARE READING
Infinity
PoetryA dazzling view of words. Multiple perspectives of life and my deepest thoughts and feelings. I write to relieve it all. Thanks for reading! ~Highest rank: #102 in poetry~
