The fields where we die
Date: Monday, 1st November 2004 @ 02:09:26 PM AEST Topic: Sad Poetry
Contributed By: surge_joebot
Go to the fields with the gun in hand.
Stand in the grass and take the last breath.
Pull the triggor and the nightmare stops.
Fall to the field... bleed on the grass... hole in the head.
Sky lights up and the angels doth cry.
Dead in the field, soul in the sky.
Nobody cares, their loved one is dead.
There they will stay sprawled in the field.
Out to the field all go to die.
Take out their guns... all joined in the sky
This poem is Copyright © surge_joebot
|
|
Important note: ALL POETRY ON THIS SITE IS COPYRIGHT. If you wish to use any poem
for any purpose, please either EMAIL Mick from the sites feedback form, or go to the
AUTHOR'S site and EMAIL the author for permission. If you Email Mick for permission on
any poem that is not his personal works, he will endeavor to contact the author on your
behalf.
This poem comes from Your Poetry Dot Com
https://www.your-poetry.com/
The URL for this poem is:
https://www.your-poetry.com/route.php?page=poetry/PoemDetail&story_id=69683
|