Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
When is enough enough,
When is the going just too tough.
Why do people have to die
Forever in the ground to lie.

Are the spoils worth all the pain
When the path is **** and maim.
Is barren land worth just so much
Now deprived of human touch.

Do fatherless children justify the cost
Memories of a generation lost.
Weeping mothers by the score
Adding every day far more.

Politicians acting blind
To the misery resigned,
Just numbers on a sheet
Conscious only of defeat.

Pride and hubris win the day
Reason not allowed to sway.
Yet solutions need be found
Striving to be clear and sound.

Calmer voices must assist
For further slaughter to desist.
The way forward won't be fast
Searching for a peace to last.

Neither side will win outright
Time for discourse not brute might.
Russia needs restore prosperity
Ukrainians live without temerity.
Cold days are nothing,
Compared to the days of,
Full night in Russia.
Imagine a whole day where the sun comes up not once.
Khoisan Nov 2024
Gutless guillotines

mounds a mass of razor blades

rise of the treaty
Si vis pacem para bellum
Safana Nov 2024
Since justice has given way
to terrorism.
Since justice has become
synonymous with kidnapping.

Know that hunger
is a catastrophe.
Hunger is war.
It is either ****
or be killed.

I swear both to God and to you.
I can go for twenty-four hours without eating.
Children were arrested during protests in Nigeria, but they have yet to be brought to court. Because of hunger and poverty, they considered the Russian flag as a solution. They were brought before the court yesterday, and the judge granted them bail in the amount of ten million naira, or approximately 6069 US dollars.

How can a person who is unable to feed himself for 24 hours or more obtain such large sums of money?

This is what justice looks like in Nigeria.
Kris Fireheart Jul 2024
Spent half my life immersed
In starlight...
Outside the windows
Of my room....

Was raised to think
Everything was alright...
But I found out the truth
Much too soon!

Oh,  howl, howl,
Howl at the moon!

Oh, watch the midnight
Blue,  and feel the
Lights surrounding you!
And never wonder if
You'll ever be afraid!

Oh, howl, howl,
Howl at the moon!

We find out our truths much too soon...

Oh, bring me a bottle ,
To bury my worries!
Oh, load me a pipe,

And I'll tell you a story.

A story, a story,
A terrible story,
My life for a story,
Of honor and glory.

Oh, howl, howl, howl,
At the moon!

Either drunk or
Hungover, or waking
Up Blue,

We'll fight till it's over,
Till battle is through;
Till we're beaten and Bloodied,

And covered in mud,

And we march home while
Weary, and spotted with
Blood.

Oh, howl, howl, howl,
At the moon!
A poem that I wrote for some friends of mine in Ukraine and Russia who don't want to fight, but are forced to.
They love the personification of the wolf, and so I made it my job to show people how they feel.
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2023
windowless day,
particles of strange salt on his brow,
generator man
on the coil,
double-sided,
a love for radioactive honey:
a storm in a teacup...

but for some reason
could not reciprocate
due to the metallic taste in his mouth,
and so he seemed driven
to build his electrical dream,
and took comfort from his pigeons,
the “lightning machine,”
the hair on his head bristled
as he discovered his purpose
in rings of glory that died
as flags of dust...
Fallout from nuclear bomb tests in the 1950s and '60s is still showing up in U.S. honey, according to a study in 2021. Although the levels of radioactivity aren't dangerous, they may have been much higher in the 1970s and '80s, researchers say.
Abunde Oct 2023
Outraged by indifference,
On the streets, neighbors once friendly Now stand in opposing lines. Propaganda posters cover the walls, Spreading fear and dividing minds. Ukraine or Russia, Isreal or Palestine. Capitalism or communism the greediness and division funding all wars

In countries once united and with the hope of, now torn apart.  Hopes and dreams dashed, shattered like glass.  The future once bright, now a dark unknown.  How can we navigate our way into a peaceful world

Blue and yellow flags, now stained with blood. A nation once united, now torn asunder.  The echoes of shelling, ringing in their ears.  The land of golden wheat, now a barren wasteland.

So the streets are filled with chaos and fear,  And the violence rages on without cease. Bombs and bullets tear through the night,  and civilians cower in their homes, bereft of peace. The loss of life and suffering is great, And the scars of war run deep and true. The conflict rages on without end,  And hope seems hard to hold onto.

A home, once a dream of safety. Now a battlefield, a place of terror. The faces of loved ones, now distant memories. hearts, once full of hope. Now shattered and broken.

Amidst the chaos and despair, we search for a light. The occurring wars, the reasons to unite, for a glimmer of hope is a reason to go on.  So they cling onto the small moments of joy,  like the laughter of a child, or a flower in bloom. In the darkest of times, they try to find strength in the small things.

Though the scars of war may run deep, the world can still heal. We can still choose love, choose forgiveness.  We can choose to build a better tomorrow, Where peace reigns and hope abounds.  May we never forget the lessons of war, and may we always strive for a brighter future.

May we learn to forgive those who have wronged us,  and work to heal the divisions in our society.  May we reach out to those in need,  and work to create a more just and equitable world.  May we never lose sight of the beauty of life, as we hold fast to the belief that a better tomorrow is for us
This was inspired by social media updates on the wars currently taking place in the countries Ukraine and Israel. The purpose of this poem is to shine a light on the current conflicts in the world, while also emphasizing the need for peace and hope. The poem aims to explore the human cost of war, as well as the possibilities for reconciliation and healing.
dplynch Mar 2022
Mother pricked her index on a holly bush.

A trickle of blood succumbed to the crater, crossing the lines of her palm.

She sanctioned a frown.

On her hand now lay a staining scarlet winter berry.
Russia
Putin
Ukraine
Winter
War
Next page