Peter Vector


Stained Hands - Poem by Peter Vector

These stained hands of crimson,
And my mind drowning in sin
No escape except for pain…
In this life there will be loss and there will be gain.
My scarred and bloodied skin…

And to all that care for me the problem lies therein;
I feel my emotions bottled up within…
This poor wretched body which is to die in vain;
The stained hands…

Around my body does the world spin…
Away I seem to begin,
To fall from this materialistic world, this place that is inhumane…
My white innocence with brilliant red blood is stained!
Another slit into another vein
Stained… hands…


Comments about Stained Hands by Peter Vector

There is no comment submitted by members..



Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?



Poem Submitted: Thursday, December 3, 2009



[Report Error]