Sinned and Stained
I smell rain coming again
the drip-drops tapping
out in the country
inside a metal pan
and here I go again painting with words
of fleshy colors
through an ink pen
caressing a silhouette
of a kind smile
and a perfect heart to match
tears lost
manifested with those drips
bitter to the lips
cold on the palm
soaked through the skin
somehow left broken again
Left blind
and completly clueless
and kind of numb
here and forever remain
sinned and stained
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