Thorn

                                                    THORN


The blood has turned into dust
But in veins is still pouring lust
Even if my hands tremble, are numb
The whole skin is painted with plumb.

Day by day,trying to erase memories,
I feel like a criminal, destroying evidences
I may demolish or at least rebuilt that wall
Still remains...it does not change at all.

I need more thread for the reopened scar
How else would I manage to walk far?
And I will always have in addition behind
Something which still carries my mind.