If the blood of innocents
seeped through continental plates,
dripped into our winter sunsets—
would they still be pretty?
Bleeding hearts
Tag: poetry
Iron
The mother, a bridge,
carries the weight of her world
ironclad shoulders
Showdown
Pimples on the Earth
sign of boiling rage within;
volcanic showdown
Untarnished
Blending blissfully
blues of the ocean and sky
untarnished by wars
Tall
Conquering the world
tiny human stands up tall
until the sun’s high
