The soldier marches to war

Did he want to go?

Did he have a choice?

The young man may not survive the day

But he marches onto battle everyday

These are not the battles of the past

With lines of troops, or clear boundaries

This is modern warfare, urban warfare

The enemy can be right next to you

Invisible bombs change lives in seconds

These men are brave, and won’t be the same

Creation was meant to satisfy,

Through the duration, we all survived.

Chances in time are fleeting,

And the world feels like its drowning.



People are breathing and the world,

The world is losing its touch.

The world is falling apart.



The thoughts of a once-great man.

The timid features of the scared man,

Hide the scars that lay deep inside.

He struggles to survive, hoping to die.



Hoping to live, He’s lost in his mind.

He takes his breaths, and lives his life.

Never feeling the true life, the real feeling,

The man’s life is empty, he just hopes to live.

Happiness is a feeling

Sacred to all

To truly be happy

You must love yourself

To love yourself

The story begins in the heart

It moves to the brain

The decisions we make,

When they are good

They help our love, keep us sane

They save our souls

The taste of her lips

The smell of her hair

Stuck to him, he smiled

The thought of her face

Made him want to run for joy

The energy she gave him

Helped him get through

Even the toughest times

Time will continue long after I’m gone

It will remain long after anyone reading this

It keeps us on track for the day,

As well as measures the age of a person

It is one of the last remaining mysteries

That plague the earth, will we ever know?

Or is this just a useless search

Like when you lose the remote and can’t find it

No matter how hard you look,

Maybe it will be like when you’ re about to quit,

Just to find the answer under your ****

We can only hope

The typical boy,

In his typical life,

Was a Typical toy,

With a typical knife,

It was a typical day,

With a typical start,

But this typical day,

Ended in an untypical way.

The political system is fragile,
The sides will not budge.
Like a game of tug-of-war,
The fate of the country rests,
In the hands of the men we choose.
But their hands are like a sieve,
letting millions fall through the slots.
To make up their mind is to save the country,
But the bull-headedness leaves us all in wait.
Just hope to survive.

Everything happens for a reason,

Or so they seem to say.

I love this type of season,

You come around to stay.



The summer sun is rising,

As I try to fall asleep.

I have trouble in deciding,

I think I’m falling in too deep.



The mad world frightens me,

From the struggle and strife.

Now I think you’re the key,

To my boring, normal life.



Everything happens for a reason,

That’s why I love this season.

This time of year you always stay,

Making all my problems go away.

The young man was hungry,

The young man was innocent.

His clothes were very *****,

His face showed his fear.

The decisions of his past,

Left him lost to all, a ghost.

He was alone in the world,

Not a penny to his name.

He was oh so trusting,

Maybe to a fault.

He wanted to see the love,

The kindness of Humankind.

So when asked for a favor,

He instantly accepted.

The young man took the bag,

No questions were asked.

When the police came,

The truth came out.

The bag was filled with money,

***** from the botched heist.

The young man will never be the same.

As the jail cell slammed,

And he was locked in,

The young man screamed,

"Why me?"

The words on the page,

From the awkward man-boy,

Flow so freely form the pen.

They speak of pain, and love.

They speak of life, and loss.

He does it to be free,

Free from the stress of life,

Free from the times of hurt.

Only a boy and a book,

The pen flows freely,

As the man-boy opens up.

Writing makes the world go 'round.
Writing brings the Earth down.
Writing teaches those all around.
Writing can lead to new ground.
Writing has caused so many wars.
Writing takes us to many places.
Writing has opened up closed doors.
Writing can give us brand new faces.
Writings words can bring us all together.
Writing words can be lighter than a feather.