Guiltless

by shadadphilaro

A quick poem, over the denial of guilt . I thought it just fit the characters as they stay in the flower shop.

Dripping Blood

There is no blood on my hands. It wasn't me. I didn't do it. It wasn't me.

. Then what is this I see? There is no blood on my hands. No jury would convict me.

No blood on my hands just a ton from my shoulder.

sleep on a narrow prison bunk,

but there is no blood

on my hands

and my

dreams

are

not

haunted

by

the

boys

who

died

on the blood-stained battle field

There's no blood on my hands I just do as I'm told

There is nothing here to stain this flesh crimson red No

There is no blood on my hands I don't know what you mean

I was just doing as I was told. How can you find any guilt in me?