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Yani Oct 2018
The night was freezing,
trees furiously swaying;
I screamed, I called.
Your name echoed, resonated.

Without any answer,
I waited, have you gone away?
Shared memories, have you buried them?
Tell me, "I am here."

I heard you
but you did not call;
upon seeing you, I hugged you
like you've been away for so long...

And for so long you'll be away.
Holding your hands, I felt it.
It's like you've gone to another world;
stricken, my heart felt numb.

For you are so cold
and into the cold ground
I cried, I'd save you
if I could.
Amanda Mar 2018
I always end up
Self-destructing, leaving those
Close wounded or dead.
I wish I had more control.
Zero Nine Jul 2017
She used her hands to map me til she saw the screen behold her

dreams. In those perfect moments, I looked, gazed,

fervently glared into the distance from a point that was too far for

her to see. She mapped me til I remembered the first signs of a

storm, how the winds felt. Then, a swift retreat. The winds died,

my skin dried, my ***** raised for rain.
thegirlwhowrites Feb 2017
Please don't log in here.
Our walls are our heart's war zones.
No casualties, please.
Cynthia Go Sep 2016
I.
It was raining hard when you left me
the ship we’re on was about to sink
and all the gang was there.
You held her hand,
As I held mine.

II.
It was raining hard when she left me
the ship we’re on was about to sink
and all the gang was there.
I wished it was her hand,
I was holding.

III.
It was raining hard when he left me
the ship we’re on was about to sink
and all the gang was there.
I was holding his hand,
But she was holding his heart.
Brent Kincaid Sep 2015
Does anything ever mute
The sound of dying men’s screams
Who volunteered to defend
The righteous demands of greedy dreams?
The clouds roll quietly in
And who can tell if it is mist or smoke?
So, this pile of dead humans;
Are they enemies or a sick man’s joke?

Did they know what they were
When they piled into the planes and cars?
Did they have any idea why
They were ordered to march and fly so far?
Were they told they were fighting
For one thing when it was really another?
Were the coerced into uniform
By neighbors, teachers, fathers and mothers?

And when smoke clears each time
Do those that came after them to battle
Find some still lie there dying
So they can listen to the death rattle
Of one more brother or sister
Dying in the mud on their back
From a war that was started
When their nation was never attacked?

Glory and pride are words
That can be used to cover over lies
Like bandages over wounds.
But they don’t mute the mortal cries
Of those who died feeling tricked
About not defending freedom
But for money for the hand-picked.
Candy Noire Apr 2015
The shambled emotions on the side walk
Singing songs with our eyes cause we’re dirt poor
And talk is cheap but I guess yours is free
And you never leave when you’re next to me
And I can’t help but push you away from here
Tearing paper skin with crocodile tears
Try and leave a mark, leave a scar
But it’s wearing thin, I bruise hard
The casualties of history
Oh treat me like you don’t know me
And if I die do not mourn me
Yeah if I am dying don’t resuscitate me
Dot Dec 2014
...the War that is fought
beneath glazed eyes and
puckered brow.
How epic the battle,
in all its
exaggerated glory.
No bloodshed;
just words spat from
the trenches
to make casualties of
ears and pages.
T2m Sep 2014
War
Soldiers sown in the field
And bodies usually are the yield
Bodies of strangers , friends and
colleagues
Leaving survivors with long lonely
monologues
Rendering life without taste or feel.

In this clash of elephants
The casualties include animals ,
civilians , even infants.
That is to say but the least .
Vultures gather in circles to feast
On the remains of once beautiful
living beings .

Where then is the profit of war ?
When rebuilding cost so much
more
Both humanly and materially .

— The End —