I Sold My Blood For Money - Poem by samuel nze
Sometimes I saw my blood
Drain out at the prick of a needle
My blood was draining out
As money was draining in;
I was selling my blood for money.
The nurse said I had excess blood,
Whether she told the truth
Or lied to get me part with a pint or two
I cannot tell,
But of what use was blood to me
When I was dying of hunger?
I agreed to sell that
Dark red fluid in my veins;
That rich red rumble of liquid
Filled their plastic bag;
I saw the vampires smile and praise
The quality - your's is rich, they say.
I am impatient; all I want is money, and
Soon enough they count me two notes;
I look at the sum - the price of blood.
They say blood is life,
But I have traded it here for money;
Does that mean that my life is priced?
Perhaps - if I cannot eat
Food bought with money
I will certainly die.
Comments about I Sold My Blood For Money by samuel nze
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You