Blood On The Leaves
Blood on the Leaves
It makes me sad
To think, then mad
To be associated with them,
only by color.
You play us like they judged that man.
The blood on the leaves;
Warm and full of life.
Don’t put that on me, Ricky Bobby.
We lost someone today.
Sad is all this is,
Pushing us 100 years in the past.
I can’t imagine that town’s shame.
Copyright © Brad Nicolas | Year Posted 2015
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem.
Please
Login
to post a comment