Blood has dirt. It can’t be cleaned.
Like fame can be built but is so mean.
You know. I know. We all have seen.
It will be spread and stay for years.

Black or white! Wrong or right!
What you did or what you still fight!
Keep your head up all days and nights!
You should start a new journey which makes something so brightful.

Read More about Poem & Poetry:

Not a Nomad Anymore | Poem #34

A sacrifice that had never been returned | Poem #33

Who is wrong really matters? | Poem #32

Take a Break | Poem #31