8 August 2012
A prick of a thorn,
A slip of a knife,
Your skin torn,
A shed of blood,
A single drop,
You could,
Shrug it off,
Just a cut,
Not a cough,
But a scab,
Turn to a scar,
One to add,
Literally said,
Things you do,
Like blood shed,
Can be there forever,
Never wear off,
Grudges never,
Seem to fade.
Grudge • Opuss № I