5Word after word,
Question after question,
Filling up my mind,
Seeking for the truth.
Knowing that it won't be pretty,
Knowing that it will be ugly,
Knowing that it will cut me,
just as God has designed.
A cut is a cut,
that will always hurt.
A mark is a mark,
that will never be seen.
Blood drips, forming a puddle.
Till the end, it leaves a red line.
A mark that represents the past.
A mark that tells another story.
A/N: Another 5 min. poem. They comes out fast but they are not good. hahaha... make it up when I was working. (not really) hehe.. enjoy and R&R PLEASE!