I speak of pain
That wears red rain
Slashing my wrists
To open soft veins
See sprinkles splatter
Call it sidewalk paint
The blade does not burn
As much as that social poison
We have been imbibing
Relaxing while lying
So there is no surprising us
Because those we love
Have lost the same wars
Not bombs and mustard gas
but razor thin red lines
That beat and bleed out in time
Taking the last of our once beautiful minds