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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 22:14:43 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 175751
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => World War one
[time] => 2013-04-15 13:52:46
[hometext] => ( keep in mind Im only 14 years old)
[bodytext] => 1914 when the war hit us first this war was so bad could we ever see worst Soldiers were in great demand for world war one so wifes lost their husband and mothers, their sons Little to no training involved, if mess up they would, with a bullet theyd be mauled lines of men were tossed each a gun, if shot at they got they were told to run. These men had come living most arnt leaving the same, either limbless, diseased or gone insane How hard would it be to watch your own friend lie their half living awaiting the end, or sitting at home to a knock on your door to here that your kin is breathing no more. They ran to the battlefeilds most dropping dead. the last moment of fear before shot in the head, laying their pretending you were sitting at home when in reality your laying their dying alone your painfully dying with a chest full of lead, This battle feild is your final bed. how bout your wife your sister or mom they wonder if you made through the battle of somme maybe you didnt even make it that far your just a rotted corpse full of scars Now your living conrads all answer the call the wounded, insane the armless them all How many men awaited your name and when you didnt answer they looked down in shame Or maybe you made it back to your team familliar uniforms the, same stitch in the seam Off of the feild out of the blood ridden rain sit in that bunker oh half gone insane The scent off the war with the bodys decaying, Out on that feild they died where their laying A bullet, Grenade or even a knife Oh such a way to leave your own life The kids who snuck all the way to war, crying at the sight of first degree gore They try and they try, and they die and they die, Why did come here? the blank stares and the fear when their lifes at great risk they can only stay there and wish That they never got deported, on that boat that they boarded With the heat of the battle and stench of the trench Sitting or standing with sweat you were drenched in your hand a canteen in the other a gun, your legs muscle memory was instantly run, When out in the war there was no past or future Your mind never strayed from the enemy shooter nothing was certain but falling apart out on that feild so far from the start conrads half breathing humans losing the meaning of considering others then to your right drops another Bullet storms pelt numb bodys still felt You not only lost your life on that feild You lost your pride With out a sheild ~Shantel Tobin [comments] => 1 [counter] => 151 [topic] => 57 [informant] => ShantelTobin [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => war )
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