I Am Here Poem by Bella Pencil
I Am Here
My God,
I pray you clear my veins,
See your hands, red with my blood,
Stain the tree where I start,
I pass many footprints to misled destinations,
Why does my blood run from nowhere?
Why must the clock hurt too?
I hear the contracted brains grow,
As I stay with man in this place.
No hand to show the way now,
My heart, swift then slow.
I am late -
Not dead.
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8/28/2026 10:36:34 PM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
