I see red, I see red
I see red all over this place
Do you know where the red came from?
It came from my very own arms.
(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)
My friends think that I am insane now.

YOU ARE READING
Dry tears'poems
PoesíaThis are poems that I try creating and there is a (most) likely chance that they suck. They can be confusing, sad or just plain stupid. It really just counts what mood I'm in, or what type of style that I want to make the poem. Warming: there is a...