The blood on my hands can not be washed

It will stay here for eternity

My ancestors gave it to me

The blood of the past

Crusted

and

Metallic

I will pay for the choices they made

I will drown in the guilt that should have overcome them

The blood on my hands can not be washed

It will stay with me forever

You look to the past as something fictional

But it is

Alive and

Fighting to be recognized

I will live with the judgement of actions i never committed

I will pay for what they did

If not in blood then with my sanity