Minute Poem: Blood
I happened to stumble across bearhat ’s journal entry titled The Haiku Marathon Part 1 and it kind of inspired me to write some poems of my own.
I wrote four poems after reading it and out of those four (a limerick, a haiku, a cinquain and this minute poem) I found that I liked this one the best.
Advanced critique is encouraged and welcome for future pieces. :)
It is not bronchial asthma
Made of plasma
Shown by a cut
Out of his gut
It’s ready for when you get hit
Leaves through a slit
Cut by a knife
End of his life
When it is falling to the ground
Without a sound
Lands with a thud
His drops of blood.
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