here's a great poem i came across:
Skin is thin and unbroken,
Like words of hate, left unspoken,
Until the blade of conflict cuts,
The skin that spreads, as opened up.
The blood flows out like crimson streams,
Surrounds and drowns the strongest screams,
Until the river red runs dry,
All else is left alone to die.
The wound, it slowly closes up,
And mends
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