That day.
That life.
That pastime.
That fright.
When I was left,
Behind that stair,
Crying.
No one else knew I was there.
That blood.
Those bruises.
That pain,
I’ve tried to fight through it.
But the weight,
That it holds.
That the fact,
No one even knew.
Those scars.
That blood.
Dripping down my face,
Into my eyes,
Down my throat,
Blood pooling at my feet.
Sitting there,
in time of need.
That day.
That led,
To fighting,
For life.
Those flashbacks,  
Of when they pulled me into that hallway.
School.
Crime.
Turned on there “other” face,
And destroyed my hope,
That the world can be great.
That blood.
Will forever,
Remain in my memory.
That pain I felt will never be gone,
The pain that day.
That nobody noticed or saw.
That day,
Was what hurt me the most.
That day.