Death Blade

• Joel Turner, Grade 10
• Poetry
• 2015

I bare my skin.
I'll never win.
This blade makes.
Trails like snakes.
Your skin is red.
But your not dead.
Dont do the deed.
This blood you bleed.
And now I lie.
Wishing I could die.
But I don't say goodbye.
Because I will survive.
See the brand new morning.
I wont be crying or dieing.
But don't come too close.
Or you'll see the ghost