Dead people on the ground.
Blood spilling all around.
Guns shooting in the air.
People pulling out their hair.
Hearts crying with no sound.
Bombs thrown all around.
Babies sick and dead.
Death being pulled by a thread.
Here I stand alone,
upon the grave called my home.
Here is where I am dead.
Being poisoned in my head.
hearing screams and cries,
this is no heaven of mine.
2 comments:
hey i like the idea of rhyming its very great. i get the picture that war is bad and that we should stop it because so many peopl get affected by it and it hurts and its painful to go through. the fact leads to that nobody should go through it as well. its the idea of war but war is good at the point that we protect the people we care about back home so is it really a good cost to pay?
good poem, but i think that war is neccesary sometimes. but great poem.
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