the red stain
i dont know how it got there
or at least i dont remember
i wont admit i did anything
but i will admit that its there
it haunts me everyday
her voice still calls my name
crawls on its hands and feet
creeping its way into me
along with her message comes pain
suffering and disaster liven the room
i see the man in the corner
i see the man is me
i see the war is over
i see i cant be free
i see the stain haunt me
i watch it go along
i wont admit she's wrong
but i will admit
that there is a stain
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Question: Is this poem about war?