Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Feb 2010
Around the grave, they all gather, as they quietly begin to mourn

In the middle of their hearts, stands a lonely thorn.

Poking and stabbing, and jabbing away, everything seems so lost.

Though it's winter, it's so cold, they don't mind old Jack Frost.



A man has fallen in a war, something that shouldn't be fought

But the government has it's lie, freedom should be bought

Around the nation, the people wonder why they need to mourn

It's the lies, it's the lies, being told by this lonely thorn.



The weapons blast, people die, blood spills upon the ground

Some people die, gone forever, their bodies are never found.

War is war, there are no sides, nobody can truly win.

But thanks to him, the war goes on, this should have been a sin.



The battles rage on, people fall, and families start to mourn

For the lies, that were told, now people are getting scorned.

There's a lesson in all of this, but nobody will ever see

It doesn't take blood, nor mass death, to continue to be free.



And so the family begins to cry, they slander that one thorn

The bell goes off as they leave, darkness is what they worn.

God stands next to them, trying to give them comfort

It's okay, my lonely child, I'm sorry for the hurt.



War is hell, hell is war, this is what we know.

People die, in the end, and the rivers end it's flow.

All shall stop, not a sound, except from a single horn.

Thanks to them we are dead, and now we are your thorn.
Copyrights: 2006 by Matthew
Matthew
Written by
Matthew
456
   AW
Please log in to view and add comments on poems