You said it
She said it
No one regrets it
Death and suffering
Are at the Poets door
You've read it
A hundred times for sure
Think how many more
Poets and Poetess torn
War in their minds
It's rhyming time
Cuts and craziness
Are divine
Line by line
Bleeding is a sad sign
It would be different
If you were all mine
I would hold you
Until you were fine