It was there in the morning and lasted all throughout the day. The rusty metallic sent. It sent a shiver down my spine. Yet i stayed and watched as the old man got beat to death. The blood was his and the fault was mine. And now as the wind blows i can smell the blood in the wind. Every single time the wind blows i can smell the blood in the wind. And i realize that i am now alone.
YOU ARE READING
poems
Poesíai will be writing my own poems and putting them in this book plz don't judge me if they are THAT bad.
