Blood On The Floor

Blood On The Floor short poem

Photo by hile

Well my mother might be almost sixty
But she’s still one damn good-looking
Woman, inside and out she’s has such
A kind heart and her feelings run deeper
Than any ocean can and such a beautiful
Beautiful woman who could have any man
But why she settled for you I’ll never
Understand, you low down rotten scandal
You good for nothing s.o.b., coming home
Drunk all hours of the night taking your
Frustrations out on her that she didn’t do
Anything to deserve…
As a child I couldn’t do anything but
Listen to her cry but I’m not a little boy
Anymore and the next time you lay
A finger on her I’ll put you six feet under
Do you understand…?
My mama taught me not to lay, my mama
Taught me vengeance is the lord’s but I will
Not stand by and watch you abuse her
Anymore so the next time you lay a finger
On her there will be BLOOD, BLOOD ON
THE FLOOR and it won’t be mine that’s
For sure but they’ll be BLOOD, BLOOD ON

Rate the poem
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (1 votes, average: 3.00 out of 5)
We are posting your rating...

Have something to say about the poem?

Profile photo of Bo Lanier

Bo Lanier

Signup / Login to follow the poet.
Bo Lanier is from Chattanooga, Tennessee and has become an established poet with five books to his credit that were published in Canada. He received several achievement awards in creative writing through and has recently published two eBooks and one paperback book through After a nine year hiatus, Bo returned to publishing his poems with a new outlook and fresh ideas. His other talents include singing and songwriting.
Poems you will love

Give your feedback / review for the poem

1 Comment on "Blood On The Floor"

Notify of
Sort by:   newest | oldest

Visuals evoked wonderfully Vibrant with life and memory. Stunning write.


Blood On My Roses

Blood On My Roses sonnet poems

Brambly winds has shaken the buds of your may And may be your coral is much more red And in the blue Mediterranean where she has lay The dreams of a crystalline streams by her bed Past her garden where

Soaked In Blood

Soaked In Blood short poem

They had surrounded the tank; collars on the legs. You were tracking the revolution. The process melts the crosses in flowing blood. Everybody was carrying a rose. The bruises were spreading on table. King was drinking wine. Unwritten law. Death

Blood Rain An Impoverished Flame

Blood Rain An Impoverished Flame sonnet poems

Instant in second thought would we peer morely impoverished flame would we adhere lonely would we let love persevere or love in lost love in those disappear into a pleasance our one love so near an impoverished flame of our heart so sincere pleasance from love we once sought in


Blood short poem

I am aware Blood is Red I am knowledgeable that Blood flows through the veins in side the body I know the colour of the blood in all living species is Red Oxygen purifies Blood Pure Blood is Good for

Wish In The Blood

Wish In The Blood short poem

For the precious ones pride in the head flesh in a skull wish in the blood a curly swag a diamond scud a cunning smile I wish and will to compromise my recon time plan perceptional introversy mental controversy united