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Sandman Mar 2018
Black soot coats the earth as falling bombs in an airstrike wipe us out.
Fallen bodies cluttering broken streets, 1944, the soldiers march through a ****** fog. A city once full of life lay dead and covered in blood. Like graceful synchronized swimmers the soldiers compress the soot with the heels of their boots. The weight of the rifles grows heavier as the march goes on.

HALT!

Solidifying into solid lead. The blue sky whistles bombs like children whistling to lullaby's. One by one they melt into puddles. One by one the black  bombs shred us apart.
I was inspired by Pink Floyd,s The Wall
aurora kastanias Mar 2018
Countries fabricated
by roaming people drawing
borders behind them,
trails of hostility

to select those who would cross
rims after them, to keep
resources to themselves,
lands of prosperity

on which to build, greed
homes to shield,
newly engendered families
xenophobes,

induced to believe
by governors they are different,
they are better, superior
and ultimately worth

much more, than any stranger
standing on the other side
of imaginary lines, they are barbarians,
unbelonging

to great civilisations, against whom
we need protection,
stealing scientists
left right and centre,

research peddled as development
promising a high from nuclear weapons,
bombs called mothers to adore
campaigning over a grand potency

participating in, an international
mallet-measuring contest
whilst signing accords,
for those who have to keep

and those who don’t
not to aspire, to acquire,
a prize for populations
who have successfully or can

destroy approaching aliens
simply by, pressing the right button
on a joystick suitable for games,
of mass destruction

ten thousand nuclear warheads
ready for use.
On nuclear weapons and non-proliferation treaty
jorn christopher Jan 2018
The city sleeps in the dead of night.
The stars reveal a falling light.
The angels are sleeping at the top of the hill.
If the flash doesn't wake them then the sound
Surely will.

We rose from our beds with sleep in our eyes
And clouds overhead now blanket the skies.
The buildings and monuments are crashing to the ground
Ashes to ashes
We all fall down.

There's a nuclear reaction
to the judgement day display.
And the screaming sound ascending
to the tune of "Bomb's Away!"
Hand in hand, we'll burn alive
Like the way we feel inside.
You hold me close
and close your eyes
'Til particles of you and I collide.


We collide singing, "Bomb's Away."


Souls set free as fates are bound.
Lives once lost, in love, now found.
The city turns to ashes with these passions now full blown.
Come together, for the first time
It's the last time
That we'll ever be alone.

There's a nuclear reaction
to the judgement day display.
And the screaming sound ascending
to the tune of "Bomb's Away!"
Hand in hand, we'll burn alive
Like the way we feel inside.
You hold me close
and close your eyes
'Til particles of you and I collide.


We collide, singing:

"Bomb's Away."
Falling in love can be devastating.
anotherdream Dec 2017
War
Demons flying,
Angels dying.
Left here sighing,
Drowning from crying.

Fading ashes finally fell,
Drifting down to fate.
No reason to yell,
No reason to hate.

Sudden fire surrounding,
Life has you captured.
Lost in my drowning,
My happiness raptured.

You’ve been captured,
You have lost.
Audible laughter,
Infinite bombs.

You gave up,
You finally quit.
Please load your gun,
Refuse to give in.

You will burn,
You will die,
Take your turn,
Roll the dice.

By the way,
Life is death.
No words to say,
Only last breaths.

You’re never ready,
Always afraid.
Keep your arms steady,
Remember how you’re made.

Take your shot,
Take the chance.
You’ve only got,
Scars on your hands.

Yes they hurt,
Yes they bleed.
You feel their burn,
So hard to breathe.

Why do I suffer,
Why is there pain?
No absence of cutter,
No absence of blades.
A poem about the war within us all...
Kinsey Williams Nov 2017
There's this space between yes and no.

Between a nod of the head or a shake.

It's after you confess, "hey... I like you”, and before the other replies.

A kind of limbo of ticking bombs that makes you feel like you might explode.

But it also makes you feel safe.

A space where nothing has gone right just yet, but nothing has gone wrong either.

A mixture of eager anticipation and fear.

A happy, in-between where nothing is built or destroyed.
Eppie Nov 2017
my thoughts are shaped like
atom bombs:
bearing faces of angry gods
tearing through the air above.

my thoughts are shaped like
revolver rounds:
their loud, resounding sounds
always make my heart pound.

my thoughts are shaped like
vile things:
describing them makes my eyes sting

so i won't anymore.
intrusive thoughts
Middy Oct 2017
We want freedom don't we?
It's hard to find
Like diamonds in dirt
But there's ways to get it
Here are a few that some do

For freedom
For freedom you must ******
The politions and the police
You must **** presidents
And innocent people
Who have nothing to do
With your maddening antics

For freedom
You must throw sticks and stones
Knife them with spiteful words
Shoot them with hate

For freedom
You must throw bombs
Explosions of anger will erupt
Sadness will come
Tears of pain will fall

Children will cry
Babies will die
Mothers will sob
Father will be shocked
The world will be stunned
Celebrities will be stalked
Possibly slaughtered

Nails will be everywhere
Rumble will crumble
Into tiny breadcrumbs
Homes will be gone
The homeless will live
On dark gloomy streets

Money will be used
On weapons of wrath and war
Leaving the wealthy with nothing
And they will be naked in alleys
In poverty and hopelessness  

Human lives will be wasted
But that won't matter will it?
Why do people do these things? It upsets me and honestly makes me a cry. Such a waste of human life
Bobcat Oct 2017
Everything in the world is crashing down
Everyone around is out to get me
I've got voices in my head
And they're so **** condescending

So let's dance to the sounds of rockets
Cause chaos is all we know
Let the bullets fly right past us
And make this battlefield our home

Why do we wait for tears to fall
Before we ask if we're okay?
I'm not one to complain of nightmares
We need the night to appreciate the day

Let the ****** mist surround us
Like it's a beautiful yellow fog
Bombs blowing up through the night sky
We'll pretend that everything's alright

So let's dance to the sounds of rockets
Cause chaos is all we know
Let the bullets fly right past us
And make this battlefield our home

Let's make the best of this nuclear winter
And make angels in the ash
While the world is dead and rusted
We'll watch the lights of sattelites crash

Everything in the world is crashing down
Everyone around is out to get me
I've got voices in my head
And they're so **** condescending

So let's dance to the sounds of rockets
Cause chaos is all we know
Let the bullets fly right past us
And make this battlefield our home
Middy Oct 2017
I hate school I will hate school
I hated school I hate school
I will hate school I hated school
I hate school I hated school
I will hate school I hate school
I hated school I hate school
I hate school I will hate school
I will hate school I hate school
    I hated school I will hate school
I hate school I hated school
I will hate school I hated school
I hated school I hate school
I hate school I will hate school

SEE HOW THE USE OF THE WORD SCHOOL IS BECOMING More AND MORE BORING THE MORE YOU READ IT

THEREFORE YOU GET MORE BORED THE MORE YOU ATTEND IT!

I will shoot someone at work
I shot someone at their house
I had shot someone in the shop
I shot someone during a concert
I will shoot someone during class
I had shot someone in the heart
I shot someone while they slept
I will shoot someone tonight
I shot someone now
I had shot someone yesterday

SEE HOW MANY TIMES AND PLACES PEOPLE HAVE BEEN SHOT!
SO WHY DOES THE SHOOTER NOT GET BORED

The bomb exploded
The bomb will explode
The bomb had exploded
The bomb will explode
The bomb exploded
The bomb will explode
The bomb had exploded
The bomb exploded
The bomb will explode
The bomb had exploded
The bomb will explode
The bomb exploded
The bomb had exploded
The bomb will explode
The bomb exploded

WHY DO WE GET SICK OF THE WORD BOMB?
WHEN THEY ARE BLOWN ALL OVER THE WORLD?
Inspired by a small paragraph in the book My Name Is Mina by David Almond
I agree with hating school, don't get me wrong I love education
But I feel schools are like cages or prisons, the teacher is the warden.
Sorry for it being so long it if I get anything wrong
blushing prince Aug 2017
She was in love with the hydrogen bomb
the way his muscles dragged to the floor
caused grief in the streets
like the brazen antihero riding his motorcycle into the sunset
burgundy pink, leaving trails of glory and decay
between his feet
like the spit that ricocheted off the wall
into the permeated faces of
those she grew up with but held nothing but disdain
Contempt for their way of life
that so much imposed hers
there’s lead in his tongue
she drinks it with a slice of lime on the side
but she doesn’t know why
when he calls with a threat
like the whipping of knuckles
across her shimmery skin
she accepts that even the sun
causes damage
if you let it in for too long
she was in love with the hydrogen bomb
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