It Wasn'T Mine - Poem by Isabella Francis
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.
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