Isabella Francis

Rookie (18 June 1996 / India)

It Wasn't Mine

Thick and dark my blood flows free,
As red as the rose you once gave me.

My feet are cold my hands are numb,
My ears are deaf, my lips dumb.

My hair goes wet and my skin goes dry,
Your attack was so sudden I didn't even cry.

I just saw your face as you stabbed me on my chest,
That very instance I fell and intense pain I felt.

As you pulled the knife I felt your touch last,
Even with a cruel touch what a spell you cast.

You went away, out in the pouring rain,
Honey I'd told you never to be drenched by rain.

You'll catch a cold and a burning fever,
And I wouldn't be there to hold you when you'd shiver.

I reflect on all of this,
Will I by you be missed?

I'd loved you whole,
For your body and soul:

And on your cheek a tiny little mole.
But who'll care for you now as I'm reduced only to a soul.

I don't mind you killing me,
I just mind you hurting yourself.

Why did you have to stab me through the heart?
Stupid creature! That was not mine but it was your heart.

Submitted: Friday, October 28, 2011
Edited: Tuesday, January 03, 2012

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  • Rookie Sam Varghis (10/28/2011 4:35:00 PM)

    Hi Isabella,
    It is a wonderful piece of work; a touching poem. I like the first half than the second. I think you can rewrite and improve from 'Honey I'd told you never to be drenched by rain........' on words. A spelling correction is needed on second line, change 'feet' to 'feets'. You will be a well known poetess in the future. Best regards,
    sam (Report) Reply

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