Poetry

fingerprints

fingerprints

There is a story here
where traces of blood
flood the place I stand
within lines which never meet
from the sight of fingerprints

The night carries sounds
through whistling winds
reveal wounds which
never heal or deal
with the hurt that made them

Behind prison bars
that lock innocent
bodies and eyes which
the dry cry is heard

There is a story
inside invisible
shadows which
haunt the souls that strive to hide from them…

© P.A.W. 2012

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