Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
In a drunken stupor the widow lies awake As she waits quietly for dawn to swiftly break As the trumpet hums its chords and loudly plays I can't even look at Where he lay Kicked from the infantry and stripped of my gun For knowing that a victory is never truly won I scoff at the thankful and their euphoric praise I can't even look at Where he lay One must submit to chaos to birth a dancing star But to walk a narrow path's to swim a pool of tar We are merely blunders made by our own mistakes And you want me to look at Where he lay? Now I'm fully intact but I don't give a **** Misfortune casts its shadow a deity so grand I follow my moonlight's eternal haze It won't let me look at Where he lay It won't let me look at Where I lay
0
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 2:49 AM UTC
Where He Lay
In a drunken stupor the widow lies awake As she waits quietly for dawn to swiftly break As the trumpet hums its chords and loudly plays I can't even look at Where he lay Kicked from the infantry and stripped of my gun For knowing that a victory is never truly won I scoff at the thankful and their euphoric praise I can't even look at Where he lay One must submit to chaos to birth a dancing star But to walk a narrow path's to swim a pool of tar We are merely blunders made by our own mistakes And you want me to look at Where he lay? Now I'm fully intact but I don't give a **** Misfortune casts its shadow a deity so grand I follow my moonlight's eternal haze It won't let me look at Where he lay It won't let me look at Where I lay
Written by
28/M/Amarillo
Aug 23, 2017
Aug 23, 2017 at 2:49 AM UTC
Request permission to use this poem