war poetry (Remove filter)
Square
Room in dark paint with crumbling walls and hollowed holes
Stares back with its glimmering lights from outside
With the lowered ceilings and sound of bellows
A place fit for safe and a place relied
Crusted floor due to dirt, mud, tears, and blood
Rocking floor and the swaying curtains fuels cry of ballad
Burst of sounds made a powerful gust that shattered glass
A sound that makes its poin...
Saturday 3rd December 2022 3:51 am
Recent Comments
Trevor Alexander on The Nobel Prize for Lies
3 hours ago
Trevor Alexander on Target
6 hours ago
Mike McPeek on A Somewhat Short Poem About Almost Nothing
10 hours ago
Rick Varden on Slug
13 hours ago
Russell Jacklin on Mob Rule Mentality
13 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Mob Rule Mentality
14 hours ago
Tom on The Waiting Room
14 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on A Somewhat Short Poem About Almost Nothing
14 hours ago
Tom on Picnic By The Kamo River
14 hours ago
Graham Sherwood on Target
15 hours ago