deepundergroundpoetry.com
Red
Red is the colour
Of his pumping blood
Ensuring his heart beats
Running through his veins
From his wounds it seeps
.
Red is the colour
Of roses in his garden
Blooming every year
Tended for his sweetheart
The one he loves so dear
.
His beautiful woman
He has lovingly bound
Sprawled across the bed
Not to make a sound
Red is the colour!
Of his pumping blood
Ensuring his heart beats
Running through his veins
From his wounds it seeps
.
Red is the colour
Of roses in his garden
Blooming every year
Tended for his sweetheart
The one he loves so dear
.
His beautiful woman
He has lovingly bound
Sprawled across the bed
Not to make a sound
Red is the colour!
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