Email news@statisticool.com to sign up to receive news and updates

Found Poetry 276

5/5/20

I murder my wrist
cuts over poetry
letters gush out
to pool in words
that can't be cleaned
because I can't be clean
and now you can't be clean

This poem was created from the complete collection of Sherlock Holmes stories. Click here to get the Sherlock Holmes stories. A new found poem is afoot!

Please anonymously VOTE on the content you have just read:

Like:
Dislike:

Please show me a randomly selected poem






If you enjoyed any of my content, please consider supporting it in a variety of ways: