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Elizabeth Ann May 2014
Memories of orange afternoon sun
Burning gold rays into mist
Such a sight of beauty beheld
Guns and bombs are hardly missed

There is such a gas that burns the lungs
My ears heard months before
But my body believed not in such hate
Before the burns of war

The roar of engines soared from above
A cry of warning before the storm
I had hardly a moment to breathe
The walls of my trench move, deform

Never before has my imagination torn
The edges of evils like these
And never before could I imagine death
Be carried on such a breeze

The moment I saw the hazy air
I jumped to my feet in shock
And out I surged from my home of mud
Choking, I could not walk

A man knows not panic
Until he cannot breathe
As a man cannot know war
Until bullets he lays underneath

To this day I remain unsure
If it was tears of poison or pain I wept
But I laid and watched my men retreat
In the moments before I slept

Memories of orange afternoon sun
Burning gold rays into mist
Such a sight of beauty beheld
Guns and bombs are hardly missed
The first battle of WWI where the Germans used poison gas successfully in mass against the French. Chlorine gas had been used unsuccessfully once three months prior. This poem is written from a French soldier's point of view.
Elizabeth Ann Apr 2014
"Your eyes look empty"
I thought to myself

I know the look well
I've worn it myself
Elizabeth Ann Apr 2014
Ambien is a drug
A pill which makes you sleep
And all I can say
Is that it's very reassuring
That I will sleep tonight
Even if it means
That I cannot dream
Because who needs night dreams
When you have day thoughts
Like mine
Elizabeth Ann Apr 2014
Some days
I am the cactus
On the windowsill
Sitting stiff
Ready for a fight
But all that I really want
Is some sunshine
And a friend
To share my day with
A poem for Prickly Pete.
Elizabeth Ann Apr 2014
It's hard to write poetry
When your mind stops
Tracing the words
Of your day dreams
And your heart starts
Pumping the emotion
Of night thoughts
Elizabeth Ann Apr 2014
Promise me
That you will not
Make empty promises
Promises
Without meaning
Or sincerity
Because
I don't know
If I can handle
Another
Broken heart
Elizabeth Ann Apr 2014
The butterflies dance in my thoughts
Braiding my mysteries along
With the frost in the air
Hoping that you might be just fine
I wrote this poem using only words that autocorrect presented to me.
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