There are those who, in a flash,
Earn themselves a gaping gash.
They fall down in pain,
Never to be the same.

People rush immediately to help them,
A cup of pity, full to the brim.
The aid flows forth, just like the blood.
To get the man up and out of the mud.

This is my creed
Of what it feels like to bleed.

A slight sting, but a deep prick,
A small drip of blood creeps down my arm.
It doesn't stop, I feel as though I'm sick.
A piece of grain withering from the farm.
I fall down in pain,
Cry out, only'in'vain.

No one comes, they can't see the scar.
For the blood only seeps slowly.
Everyone notices those with the giant gash.
They don't realize the small cuts kill just as well.