Guilt devours my heart, my soul
weeps for it. I wash my hands
till they bleed and bleed, but
the blood isn't mine! Out, damned spot!
Out, I say! Oh but the blood remains
Tattooed on the palms of my hands.
YOU ARE READING
From the bottom of my heart
Poetrymy homemade poetry #94 in poetry on 17 Dec 2015, 10am #33 in poetry on 31 Dec 2015, 12.36pm #12 in poetry on 17 Jan 2016, 11.58pm All rights reserved © Cover designed by @dcrktimes
