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Maegan Sep 2012
I am the soldier of the 32nd Battalion.
I wonder if i will make it out alive.
I hear my friends dying around me.
Iwant to fight and win this war for my country.
I am the soldier of the 32nd Battalion.

I understand that i may never see my family again.
I say to others to keep fighting.
I dream of the triumph if we win.
I try to let out my emotions when no one is around.
I hope we all survive but i know it won't happen.
I am the soldier of the 32nd Battalion.

I prtend to be strong in front of others.
I feel so much pain.
I touch my leg and feel blood.
I worry i might not make it.
I cry for my loved ones.
I am the soldier of the 32nd Battallion.

written by maegan cattermull
i am 12
Gaurav Gurung Sep 11
A Night before Stalingrad
It was a cold night as far as I could remember,
The trenches were never empty
Smoky on a mound of Earth
Smelt of carcasses and dwelling death
Dawn had forbidden us
Much like how our governments had abandoned us a long time ago
Time left its grim stain on us
Many faces came, many faded-
Some died with valor
Some with false glory
I cursed fate for leaving me alive
I did not want any glory
But now I had a purpose to serve
And desertion would make me
A traitor- hypocritical for how
a second of thought could foreshadow
years of strife.

The punk had foresaken his mischief
The tailor measured corpses
The poet had put down his pen
The graduate his degree
I remember my life as a fisherman
before all the bustle and *******
patriotism took its root.
The mayor promised us a warm bed,
food for our families but were they of any good?
Now that most of the backs to lay on that comfort were buried under soil that claimed no identity.

A new month- new recruits
Their eyes always at first gleamed with dreams,
Oh! To slit the enemy, raise the flag above their dead body.
Only if it were that easy!
Their eyes always drowned once they witnessed the atrocities.
New soldiers kept on piling
Much the better for the "big man" to spread their irony.

Some ol' merry jester once had given us our smiles back
only for him the next day to be shot right between the eyes,
Since that day- our division had seen no hint of joy
But every now and then we raised our glasses and made a toast to his soul.

The brave men beside me sobbed and let their tears flow like streams of an unprecedented waterfall.
We hugged and embraced each other to feel what might've been our last night of company.
I felt no remorse- no sadness, I had not much to look up to
I knew my battallion was to be wiped the next morning.
I let out a deep sigh and took out my wallet,
glancing into the still photo of my massacred family.
I gently wept and prayed to Almighty
To take me into his arms-
To take me completely
To my family
To my family.

It was a cold night and time moved slowly
It was a cold night
It was a night before Stalingrad.
Paul Donnell Dec 2016
Heavy foot steps and lead laeden words.
Trying to create sense of this emergancy of birds.
Predators hiding lurking in the laminate
sealed in with a kiss the layers are feeling permanant.
Clear obsidion mixed with volcanic ash.
Crushing down on me, im gasping for breath.
Shaking like a mountain just before the eruption
trying to remove myself from this plastic corruption.
Daisies die in feilds..
Deers burn as the air horns call out the catastrophy.

You all need to run from me.

Silence in my self, I am no longer seeking
i need to break free and sing just as birds sing.
Calling out the warning; shaking up the evergreens.
its all interconnected.
Hyperspatail turbulance im screaming in my bed
im worried
im afraid
im trying
its working
i think that the plastic might just be burning
the toxic
the posion
its all gassing off from me
dont breath me
i feel like its something.


I could just be werid. Relaxing in turbines, i think im just trying and poems lead to calm minds.

Make sense of me. Make sense of you.
And you.
And you.
Im caought up in the subterfuge.  Capracioisly grapsing
for what im not sure.

Cattawompus canyons are cut into my heart. Im so confused information on piecharts
, the values dont match
the legend is misleading.
God seems to be warrenting this healing.
Kicking in the door
creating a dizzy storm.
Cyclopeon rage
stolen from days of yore..

Its time to let go.
Its time to grow.

Just understand me . just for a breif moment. I am harmless. I am less. I am lost. I need rest..

A bunch more words too honest too painful. I write poems to unleash all that is shameful.

This hurts.

This is needed.

I am bleeding.

Just so I am.

Just living.

Just leaving.

Just kidding.

Just bidding.

Betting.
On when its all ganna explode.
On when the subroutiunes will need a defrag machine when the bios gets corrupted when the system wears down when i will stand in the light looking like a ******* clown.
Because i trusted.

Why is this so hard?
I am 24 years old and cant drive a mother ******* car.
Fear is a disease that i can not squah on my own
a whole battallion of star ships need to warp into my home and disrupt the radio frequencies that speak to me
in dreams the nightmares unending the face grips and rending my cheek bones are tensing my teeth are condensing milkbones and raw tones

This excitment inside me
burns out the live feed
darkness envolopes mailed sent by trumpet
these echos of my thoughts
repeat the words taought
like liar and loser you dumb ******* ****** acomplish not nothing but your something is ******* just so god ****** worthless they all wait for your face to turn to a frowning grimice of you drowning you floundering ****** you sociatial ****** you cautious cat crawling as dogs get the tasties of life while your wasting your time just complainging this echo echo chamber needs to be ******* obliterated. A star dust deconstruction and rebuilding of the most primitive functions.

Take me from my own head.
I made my bed.
Id lie in it. But. Its made of my own meat and guts.

Friends
.. I need your ******* help.

Just.
Be you. Perfect.

I trust you. Despite what these echos say bouncing in my brain.

Just.

This is too much.

Just.

I think im just werid..

Just.

Please dont run.

— The End —