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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#434021voted by our readers
By GarrettBarnes BRONZE
Washougal, Washington
Red is the color of the blood as it runs down my knuckles. Walking away from the fight as my knee buckles. Red is the color that would mark you for a beating. If you wore red we...
Washougal, Washington
Red is the color of the blood as it runs down my knuckles. Walking away from the fight as my knee buckles. Red is the color that would mark you for a beating. If you wore red we...