christ

A Poem by cricket

misplaced in religion

My fingertips
Stain the delicate bible papers
Deep red wine
Although this blood is not christs
Its mine,
Carved open by the sharp words
That lay hidden and tucked in between
Those false and flowery sentiments

© 2022 cricket

Author's Note

feedback/opinions is appreciated.

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Added on May 1, 2022
Last Updated on May 1, 2022

Author

cricket

Bloomington , IN

About

young writer from the midwest hoping to find more and putting it into words along the way. more..