These stains run all across my skin for every single truth I let fall apart I have blood on my hands I confess for all the weight of silence I possess

I have blood on my hands for I see the voices unheard, for I see the tears unshed,

I have blood on my hands for I see the justice denied, for I see the pain dismissed

I have blood on my hands for I see the wounds unhealed for I see the screams silenced

I have blood on my hands for I see the hungry mouths unfed, for I see the homeless humans sleep with no bed

I have blood on my hands for I see this system intentionally built with pain, for I see everyone around me let this cycle remain

I have blood on my hands not from the fight I didn’t choose not from the battles I’ve refused to face but from a world we continue to lose but from a world that left me in disgrace

Here I’m standing around agonies and echoes of this street, having blood on my hands I repeat, I have blood on my hands I confess for all the weight of silence I possess.

Author

Previous post What is Dialectics?
Next post Letters to My Ailing Mother

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *