sweatheart (Remove filter)
MEAL TIME
my mother sez im mad, for seeing whats in this poem. i wish all of the wars would stop. simple...
Meal Time
An army squad walked down the road. It could have been any road with any army in any war. The men quietly grumbled about sore feet, about the light rain and grey sky, about missing a meal. Above all they complained about missing home and their sweethearts. But a grumbling so...
Saturday 1st June 2013 3:31 pm
Recent Comments
Auracle on "streambound"
1 hour ago
John Coopey on WHAT A MAN NEEDS TO KNOW
8 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Size Doesn't Matter
9 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [No. 32. What Genocide?]
9 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Haiku for 2025 [No. 34. Blue Skies]
9 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on And Every Man a King
10 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on WATER'S LULLABY
10 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on WHO THE HELL CAN SEE FOREVER?
10 hours ago
John Coopey on I've Gotta Feeling
10 hours ago
John Coopey on The Future
10 hours ago