Cut... Poem by Kenzie Lynn
Cut...
the blood drips from her wrist,
like rainwater from the thorn of a rose.
all her pain and anger
contained in one dropp of blood
but what good does it do her
to continue doing this to herself.
her best friend begs her to stop,
but her attempts are futile.
the blood drips form her wrist,
like rainwater from the thorn of a rose
and hits the floor
only to mix with her mornful tears.
CUT...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 2:47:09 PM # 1.0.0.1119
