Tattoos Poem by Brittanie Thornton

Dark green grass stains bleed into his new blue jeans that cover his knees,
Peanut butter is smeared into his white brisk shirt from the sandwich at lunch.
A brush of dirt layers his small round face and elbows as he ran around the play ground.
His coat breathes it's own breathe as it is tossed on the ground leaking out the musky air from this morning.
All around him objects tell the story of when his fingerprints left their mark like a tattoo.
Won't his mother be pleased when she comes home?