The Blood Of Doubt

Poem By Anthony Dawson

For one full season I swayed with the leaves,

I fell to the ground in autumn,

decayed in the gutter,

gave life to another life;

I had died to live.

My hands are no longer covered in the blood of doubt.

Comments about The Blood Of Doubt

lack or originality. wonder why you wrote this at all.

Rating Card

5 out of 5
0 total ratings

Other poems of DAWSON

Early Morning

Early morning changes my colour,
Weakens my magnet for you to escape into sleep
I asked the girl in the corridor if she was a
Morning bird, she smiled then floated into the


Resist the temptation to yell
as this expression gets under my skin;
I shudder and my soul is disturbed.

The Peach Face In The Clouds From The West

I saw your face,

the peach face;

Broken Backs

I stood amid destruction;

water trickled through corridors and pores emulating tears.

At Least Tommorrow

At least tomorrow I can sleep,

ignore the rapid fury of open eyes rasping my presence.

Factory Work

I can't yet hear the grind of the factory
I have just woken and my heart is racing
My heart is a racing fuse
Today I begin life as someone else