Scraped Knees
the grass flowed with the breeze
rubbing off green on my scraped knees
the scratches itched and burned
but so did the sun I later learned
it lingered in red blotches on my face
and eased up my arms with grace
you saw me later all burned and torn
brought me into a hug without scorn
as I buried my head into your shirt
it felt as if id never hurt
This poem is about:
Me