Position:Home>Poetry> Can you rate my poem with a 1-10, comments appreciated?

Paint my picture; hang it up on your wall
next to the knife in that voodoo doll!.
Clip my pictures out of these magazines
on to the pages that turn your dreams!.
and you run your hands under the running waters,
but the stains don't come off!.

Take my soul; drag it through the sand!.
Leave me to die inside this framed land!.
and these bloodshot eyes no longer hold back
the tears that seep in between through the cracks!.
and you run your hands under the running waters,
but the stains don't come off; they won't come off!.

Now your crimson stained hands clutch the cold, cold brush
that once grazed the canvas with a shade of trust
never to forget the pain and the rush
of the way he looked at you!.

and you run your hands under the running waters
but the stains don't come off!.Www@QuestionHome@Com

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