Poem 178 - Blood without a murder?

I come out of the washroom, after cleaning my hand's mud and sand

I see the walls red, I get scared - is it blood? For a moment I just stand

I scream out loud, my mom comes in and looks at the red wall

For a moment she stares, and then comes a smile that is small,

I turn back to the wall and see my little sister sitting with a paintbrush in her hand

-Gaurang Rao

Written for - http://talesthursday.blogspot.com/

Image from - http://swineandroses.deviantart.com/art/Corner-25811760