Wasted

The blood that spills forth from

My veins.

What does it symbolize?

Life?

Death?

It can be wasted so easily

And taken so easily.

The blood I can waste

By an easy slice.

Does that mean we can be wasted?

Just as easily?
♠ ♠ ♠
Thanks for reading. This is another random poem I found on my h-drive. :'DDD