Blood On Blood - Poem by Nicholas Peter
Another quiet death,
deep and rooted,
a mighty tree,
growing in the dark.
A miniature war,
gunshot after gunshot,
getting up after each wound,
how do you do it?
That smile is a ruse,
that's painted on a sad canvas,
covered in pastels of black and red,
another little picture-perfect falsity.
Comments about Blood On Blood by Nicholas Peter
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.