I wonder how it would feel,
the pungent acrid of irony blood
mocking the runaway tales of freedom.
What would it speak to my folks?
If it could talk
a mere tool,
trying to claim innocence
for a murder it didn’t commit.
Yet it stains itself,
carving into skin,
a solid evidence.
But we have none to blame.
First thing i wrote this yearrrrr ajjsjdjdjdidudur