Dirty money is hard to clean With blood still dripping
“Out, damned spot!”
I still feel dirty Like my hands will never be clean again
Sick Game
A terrifying form Of hide and seek
Haiku #8
Mental asylum Voices raise painting the white walls In heinous hi- depth
Haiku #7
A dark stormy night An accusing shade of red Stains his shaking hands
Fragment of a Figment 