My blood is of a different sort
Like a baseball on a tennis court
It does not belong here in this world
And it hurts to hear those cries of pain I cannot help
While I'm stuck here, high upon a dusty shelf
I can't get down alone by myself

The cries of pain get louder in my head
Blood the color of red flashes in front of me
It's so much different from mine...
No one else sees it, they must be blind
I start to shiver and shake
And look down from the dusty shelf to see my reflection in the lake

I start to wonder who I am and who I was
The pain tears through my heart and soul
I start to lose my breath
And feel sadness hand-in-hand with death
Only love could heal my heart but I couldn't reach the light
Everything now out of reach and out of sight

Then from behind I feel a hand rest upon my shaking shoulder
My one true love has come to heal and help me through
Off that dusty shelf forever
I looked into his smiling face and realized that blood has no effect on love
that's true

Okay this is the very first poem I've written so plz forgive my corny
words...the title spells Blood by the way..if you put the 1s and 0s
together....
 
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