Poetry Blog by Sophie Bethany

You always see

when people trip and fall 

face first onto a knee,

The shear panic of a red warm pool. 

People crowd and care, 

Rushing to rescue. 

Drip, drip, drip,

The skin now stained

seeping from veins,

Pumping like a bad memory,

Fixated on the blood

people forget the scars,

Not the one oozing with puss

but the one deep-rooted, 

Crying out for atte...

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