just realized some background may be good on this... so in case you hadn't noticed, something usually triggers my poetry, and experience, a dream, a memory... In this case it was a Principles of Sociology class in which I sat by for over an hour while people who knew nothing about the subject discussed teen suicide... worst class of my life... by the time I got back to my dorm, somehow without crying I was paralyzed, I had to do something, thus, this poem was born.
Subject: Ink Stains 
