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Robert

The blood in your body moves perfect like water as water falls,
 blood rushes down.Washed out by dead hope and desire
My soul is lost searching for a shore
once again nausea can’t be blocked
Another teen dead.
My knuckles are pale, detached from reality,
wounds forced with further embarrassment.

Robert

The blood in your body moves perfect like water as water falls,
 blood rushes down.Washed out by dead hope and desire
My soul is lost searching for a shore
once again nausea can’t be blocked
Another teen dead.
My knuckles are pale, detached from reality,
wounds forced with further embarrassment.

Patricia Robinson  20, Seattle

 
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