Blood
The heat of the blood turns cold
Driping and drying
Down my arms
Proving once again that
The dead thing I am
Is still alive
Life fading, drifting away
No, not to deep to die
Left with the hopeless feelings of life
But you would not understand
How deep the pain is
Scars left by the razors
Of other people
The heat of the blood turns cold
Cold...cold again
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� D. R. Vecchione
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