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#bloodshed
This is probably the most difficult thing To find these days People are dying senselessly in mass shooting Like ice pellets on snowy days We are all shocked and amazed In watching the around-the-clock news Nobody in their right mind will be amused By the absurd massacres of the innocents Let’s find a way to stop all violence Let’s pray for peaceful means Let’s repent our sins Let’s find solutions to our problems Let’s stop the bloodshed And extinguish the old flames Of hate and bigotry, and the fire of hatred Let’s bury them in the sand, my friends With amicable and compassionate hands Let’s find peace within ourselves Let’s picture God on our walls, on our shelves Let’s smile and wave to each other Let’s care for each other, let’s love each other. Copyright © December 4, 2015 Logerie Hébert, All Rights Reserved Hebert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
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Mar 20
Mar 20, 2026 at 8:25 PM UTC
Let's Find Peace
painted our life with chalk on the street pained me to see rain erase everything the hours i spent all the blood shed only fading memories left in my head strained to be starting over again the love i thought saved me i needed to save myself instead only left with what is dead
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Oct 21, 2025
Oct 21, 2025 at 9:22 AM UTC
What is Dead
The hill I will die on, Is that most battlefields aren’t worth dying on. Some people see a mob, And grab their pitchforks and their torches, Without even understanding, What they’re fighting for. Perhaps they love the bloodshed, Perhaps they love the gore, Perhaps they feel righteous indignation, And are adamant to settle the score. It could be some primal need to fight, Or some could be sure that they’re right. Either way, I don’t see the point, I understand that sometimes a war is just, Most times, it feels like a bust. A waste of money, A waste of time, A waste of precious human lives. All for what? Some measly land? How greed corrupts the righteous hands. So the hill I will die on, Is that some battles aren’t worth fighting, That they aren’t worth the pain. The lives they ruin, The families they break, The friendships covered in contusions, The human souls that are broken and bruised. All for what?
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May 7, 2025
May 7, 2025 at 10:30 PM UTC
Shorter Poem #21 "The Hill I Will Die On"
I've read about bloodshed; whether foreign or local by hands of same labour, Tribalism; though something I haven't experienced, I've felt it's affect. The very hurt of a neighbour. History has shown us plenty, still the plenty of hurt in our history we carry. If these walls could talk; they'd seem lesser, and quietened by the ground's bloodshed. History taught us well into future, but affected the present so badly. Tears of loss, tears of tragedy, tears of us, tears of brothers and sisters, Are tears of all, us as one nation's family. Tears of old, tears anew, tears of past, tears of present and future, Are the tears of another I shed too. These tears on the grounds of present pastures; I question how long generations we'll wait for the tears to into laughter. Sigh!
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Jun 12, 2022
Jun 12, 2022 at 6:59 AM UTC
African tears
Poppies grown rosy, from my comrades souls. Stained red with their own murderous goals. Their life force ****** dry, and now it flows, Into the soil through the meadows. Crowns of lead bullets adorn many a 'hero's' head. Many a crying widow and widower longing for the dead. Young daughters and sons who stand on their fallen's bed. This is where the everlasting hate is spread.
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Apr 16, 2021
Apr 16, 2021 at 3:55 PM UTC
Cycle of Hate
People name that place a paradise, where painful screams are heard; but unheard the Walking Souls are dealt to be soulless the Blood is shed as a vain fluid where Heartless beings are imposed to be escorted People name that place a paradise, where Sun rises with hope; but unhope the Wanton is unbridled in his tyranny and Victim is to be hushed unattended where each Atom tells the story of oppression People name that place a paradise, where laughter became the part of past that is mortuary but not a homeland where Lively spirits are declared hollow where humanity is just taken for granted People name that place a paradise where painful screams will be heard; but unheard...
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Mar 23, 2021
Mar 23, 2021 at 2:30 AM UTC
Tyranny
There’s a fire on top of the rooftops, Bombs are falling from planes nearby, people are scrambling for cover, And help is M.I.A. Debris falls all around us, Bricks tumble, our hearts fumble. We ask ourselves: Will we make it out alive? We fear for our lives, We fear for our families, But the enemy doesn’t care. We’re gonna need more than a prayer To get through this hell that is World War III. We know there’s no time to wait, We have to keep going, Or we may be another target, Another casualty of heartbreak. As we hear the surrounding screams, We dare not look back, As the enemy closes in around us The sounds of gunshots Bounce off the walls, And one by one, the loved ones around us, like dominoes, take the fall. We dodge, we duck For cover. They shoot, fire, And another casualty Another loved one lost. Our hearts beat faster and faster, As our hopes of survival are quashed. Adrenaline courses in our veins, And time starts to slow down. We begin to wonder And ask ourselves once more: Will we make it out of this hell? We didn’t ask for this. We didn’t want this war. But here we are, fighting just to survive. We don’t eat, and we don’t sleep, All we do is run away And hope we live to see another night.
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Nov 24, 2020
Nov 24, 2020 at 12:41 AM UTC
World War III
we fight until there is no in between until homes are reduced to wastelands until we feel incomplete without a gun in our hand and still the children go hungry still the mothers are weary still the fathers die early Esther Krenzin
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Aug 10, 2020
Aug 10, 2020 at 11:28 AM UTC
the tragedy of war
the fact that man man created weapons with the capability to **** man and the intention to **** man is truly shocking is we existed without weaponry so many brutal wars could have been avoided and many deaths could have been postponed brutality and cruelty would not cease to exist but it would exist less
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Mar 31, 2020
Mar 31, 2020 at 9:22 PM UTC
it shocks me, it intrigues me
the ocean is red red for the war, red for the rage, red for the passion, red for the bloodshed, killing and death that comes with the conflict. the trees are yellow yellow for the decay, yellow for greed, yellow for sickness, yellow for the colour of the metal found in the earth with worth more than anything else. the sky is gray gray for the smoke, gray for the dullness, gray for the restlessness, gray for the colour of the snow that falls from the sky, riddled with toxic chemicals.
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Nov 24, 2019
Nov 24, 2019 at 10:38 PM UTC
the present
I look at the maps hanging up on my wall admiring the world for the best it got yet i see Poverty swell and trivial refugees struggle and there are cardinal power wars destitute crave for food shelter and cloths O' why lord ? "Its the beginning of the horror flick, my son there are copious others , yet unaddressed and unresolved " However i reckon how simple it is to conquer despair hanging up on my wall For today mighty fighter stop and sleep a lil more, cuddle your love and hold her a lil long refashion your battle cry to cry of love Shed tears its no harm miracle will happen as you kiss her once more . You are the puppet fighter, no doubt you are strong they know your strength , they are foxy back stabbers brother they'll aflame your soul , Don't forget you have love back home ...
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May 24, 2019
May 24, 2019 at 1:13 PM UTC
MIGHTY FIGHTER
Blood spilled Tears streamed But no matter how much you beg on your knees That’s what war can be The child cried as his mother’s body lied With the building burning to ashes Ashes to the ground, as you hear the child plea But alas that’s what war can be The man strangled out cries As his dying breaths suffocated Underneath the collapsed building, trying to flee But alas that’s what war can be Remember the father who starved himself so his children could eat? Who had been stripped from his luxury? His happiness, his love? Who wanted to be free? Is that what war can be? What about the brother? Who lost his leg, saving his sister from a shooter? What about the sister? Who died so that her brother could survive his gun inflicted blister? What about the children? Who think the parents went to the store? Only to have the parents in a Ranger’s view Lying on the ground, blood seeping through What about the men and women? Lined up, not knowing their final words Tears prickling, not being able to see Is that what you want your people to see? But that’s all fine Get the victims in a line For it’s all for honor For it’s all for power What do you think Goes through the people’s heads? Oh how great is our country, For being torn to shreds? Or oh it’s fine your son died, Even if you had cried All this bloodshed is just insignificant clatter to such an elite matter What about the bloodshed? The dead families? The orphans? The starvation? The pain, the agony? The tears? The lost homes? The children living in fear? The bonds broken? Is it all worth ego? While you bet the lives like a gambling casino? Imagine suffocating slowly and painfully, still having so much to do Imagine watching your mother die, right after she attended the stew Imagine holding your child, trying hard to erase all doubt Imagine living a life, where nothing goes right and about Imagine seeing your school friends cry While blood trickles from your thigh So go on with your slaughter But remember the mother Every eye you made shed salty water The sister The brother The father The farmer The doctor The peasant The teacher The student So hold your ****** weapons up high But remember That once blood is on the hands it never fades or becomes dry
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Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 8:15 AM UTC
That's what war can be
Blood spilled Tears streamed But no matter how much you beg on your knees That’s what war can be The child cried as his mother’s body lied With the building burning to ashes Ashes to the ground, as you hear the child plea But alas that’s what war can be The man strangled out cries As his dying breaths suffocated Underneath the collapsed building, trying to flee But alas that’s what war can be Remember the father who starved himself so his children could eat? Who had been stripped from his luxury? His happiness, his love? Who wanted to be free? Is that what war can be? What about the brother? Who lost his leg, saving his sister from a shooter? What about the sister? Who died so that her brother could survive his gun inflicted blister? What about the children? Who think the parents went to the store? Only to have the parents in a Ranger’s view Lying on the ground, blood seeping through What about the men and women? Lined up, not knowing their final words Tears prickling, not being able to see Is that what you want your people to see? But that’s all fine Get the victims in a line For it’s all for honor For it’s all for power What do you think Goes through the people’s heads? Oh how great is our country, For being torn to shreds? Or oh it’s fine your son died, Even if you had cried All this bloodshed is just insignificant clatter to such an elite matter What about the bloodshed? The dead families? The orphans? The starvation? The pain, the agony? The tears? The lost homes? The children living in fear? The bonds broken? Is it all worth ego? While you bet the lives like a gambling casino? Imagine suffocating slowly and painfully, still having so much to do Imagine watching your mother die, right after she attended the stew Imagine holding your child, trying hard to erase all doubt Imagine living a life, where nothing goes right and about Imagine seeing your school friends cry While blood trickles from your thigh So go on with your slaughter But remember the mother Every eye you made shed salty water The sister The brother The father The farmer The doctor The peasant The teacher The student So hold your ****** weapons up high But remember That once blood is on the hands it never fades or becomes dry
Continue reading...
72
One shot fired into open air— As heavy curtains Draw dark corners Into our house, We turn away and run . Two shots fired into open air— The empty walls Resonate As we lay under A new, foreign sky. Three shots fired into open air— We try to forget- What is now history We walk down the streets With a name in an unfamiliar Tongue And our heads bent Last shot fired into open air— Our necks forced down, One of us is wailing; Two of us in silence- Nothing avails. Because We are a shade darker than their soils And there’s a cloth on our heads- Screaming.
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Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 2:20 AM UTC
In a city where war hails
I am a rose white as a snow a decent one and purity is I show i dance with the wind as the moon shines and glow but if it is about him the one who tainted me who carries hatred and anger stained me with a red paint for he is a threat of bloodshed and all i know now is pain and the purity i once hold was now gone.
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Aug 6, 2018
Aug 6, 2018 at 10:52 PM UTC
Rose
War. This idea of competition, this idea of fight or flight, this idea of narcissism, This is the epitome of, not human nature, but inhuman nature. Humans were given the ability to talk with, one mouth, and they were given the ability to listen with, two ears, yet we either SHOUT at each other endlessly, without listening, or we skip the talking and go straight to fighting.
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Mar 12, 2018
Mar 12, 2018 at 2:38 PM UTC
War.
I’m crying tears of blood. It’s just like tracking in mud. I thought we had a truce. But then you handed me a noose. I’m lying here in pain. Slowly going insane. You handed me a knife and said cut a nice slice. You said I’ll just feed you to the mice. You say this is the end. It looks like it all blends. If there was anything more you could do. I know it’d be true. That I’d be totally ******* Other Person - I really wish I was there with you. Me - I do too, but only if you knew. That I have already driven the *****
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Mar 5, 2018
Mar 5, 2018 at 4:59 PM UTC
My Dark Days
In a far off land where Lions and bear Roam around inciting no Fear Where, the lion can be small And the mouse big And the unicorns can prance through halls And the birds do not need to fly Where mice don’t need to be afraid And foxes have no need to be sly Where the ****** past of the rabbit, Is solemnly and regretfully acknowledge By its many oppressors and killer in ways deemed fit Where the ***** and the ***** Do not need to bow their heads in shame As victims of Sin Where the fish can love the butterfly And the leopard plays with the lamb A world in where the sky Is lit by the lights Of ten thousand moths Unworried about danger of sight And in where the sparrows swim And the fire burns in the lake Where the conflict has at last Been resolved in ways thought impossible.
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Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 8:36 AM UTC
Unto the World We know
*I dreamt of... A black sea With a barren land A red sea With bloodshed sand A green sea With flourished tropical jungle and A blue sea With puff filled teary sky I am not sure if the last one I saw was a dead sea?* ©sim
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Nov 1, 2017
Nov 1, 2017 at 1:13 AM UTC
The Five Seas
Who fired the first bullet? Who drew the first knife? Who took the first life? Who verbally assaulted the first person Who's fear did worsen into fight rather than flight in the dark night Of the human soul How do we address the bloodshed and killing What if we were willing To let go of the bloodshed show We know what is like to know What is like to live in tribes But if worked together love, unity and hope would arrive.
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Jul 22, 2017
Jul 22, 2017 at 2:32 PM UTC
Who fired the first bullet?