Scarlet Poem by Shawneka Sifford

Twisted memories scrawled scarlet upon blood stained skin.
You see this wasn't created on some ignorant thought. But a small hope for a bliss that has been taken away for far to long.
Only a small chance at a miracle can take all this pain away.
But what is bliss without pain? Happiness is in the eyes of the beholder. But what if those eyes haven't shown happiness, and had forgotten how? What if the happiness wishes to spark up once again from something that would work. Maybe a touch? But no, that touch is to far gone. And a heart to broken for repair. the holder sits staring at the mosaic tiled floor, scarlet red drops litter the ground. Every drop that holds a memory, that won't ever be lived again. For she is to far gone.