The Blood Of The Innocent Poem by Bailey Schatte

The Blood Of The Innocent



Falling into a hole in space,
Can make you see,
And sometimes receive,
That bitter taste;
For it is laced,
With the spilt blood,
Of those who were chased,
Caught,
Cooked,
And served on a plate.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
Close
Error Success