Blood On My Hands Poem by joey cooksey

BLOOD ON MY HANDS CANT WASH IT OFF TRY AS I MAY TRY AS I MIGHT NEVER WILL THE BLOOD COME OFF STAYED TO MY HANDS LIKE PAINT TO A WALL STUCK THERE FOR ME TO SEE TO HOUNT MY VERY DREAMS NO WERE TO RUN NO WERE TO HIDE CANT LOOK AWAY FROM MY BLOOD STAYED HANDS AS THE CLOCKS HANDS TICK TOCK AWAY MINIT BY MINIT HOUR BY HOUR I SIT AND STARE AT THE BLOOD ON MY HANDS I TRY AND TRY TO WASH IT OFF SCRUBING AND SCRUBING UNTILL MORE BLOOD JOINS THE PARTY TRAPED IN A NEVER ENDING STORY CUSED AM I FOR ALL OF TIME TO TAKE THAT WHICE DOS NOT BELONG TO ME FOR ALL OF TIME SHALL I STARE AT MY BLOOD STAYED HANDS