"dyings" poems
They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn
At the going down of the sun, and in the morning
We will remember them
The wonderful words of Robert Binyon written 100 years ago
The great war, the war to end all wars....but still it goes on
The weeping mother, the sob of a wife and still the dyings not done
I've seen it and done it, left mothers to weep, left a wife with a fatherless child
But!!! I was quicker on the trigger, he's dead and I'm still alive
There's no glorification in the things I have done, no poking my chest out with pride
I had to do it, it had to be done or I was the one who would have died
Can we still squander the youth of our lands in a fight not even our own
Why must we still kneel to the political will?! Why can't we have minds of our own
I'm not proud, don't boast about the things that I've done but I'm nstill alive in the place I call home...
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 3:37 PM UTC
What a perfect vision dancing on the water,
At least that’s what I heard
Nice to meet you and your daughter
No I won’t take her hand she’s not wearing any gloves
I don’t subscribe to plastic people
Because I’m a marble of a man
Take your diamonds and your silver
I would have **** on it anyway
Metal people shouldn’t be bought
There so unreliable
If I need something to love
Id buy a dog
Stimulate me, Make me Crazy
Please do something with my brain
Cuz if you can’t
I’ll buy some Mary Jane
Have a party
And **** your best friend all night long
You think your perfect
You daddy says your Pretty
Honestly I think you look like a cow
A stain glass windows
Is Still a window
When it comes crashing down
Is that your baby
Its ******* ugly
You should really go complain to the dad
So you say I’m and alcoholic
When I’ve just been ******* **** all night
Try and judge me
Cast a stone
That’s why the doctor gave you zanxe
People are a fickle thing
Always singing about ***
Honestly I could care less
Just leave your underwear when you go
Rock my body, and My soul
Give me faith in mankind
Because I just snored some aderales
And rainbows are now my friends
You act like a sterling sculpture
When in reality your just a pile of rocks
A door is still a door
Even without the hinges
I see you
You see me
***** get out of the way
I have to keep up with the Jones’
Because I think there sons got it going on
Hay **** you still there
I thought I told you to leave
Red is my world, green is my heart
Its all really ******** anyway
Flowers are dyings
The worlds already deads
Lets just play ring around the rosie
Because after all
A worlds still a world
Without your “GOD”
Oct 21, 2014
Oct 21, 2014 at 11:43 AM UTC
The world was not prepared to meet me.
My mother listened to soldiering footsteps; not to my inner cries.
Ears were deafened, and hearts were clamped down on.
I was conceived in double darkness; my fingers formed in midnight and stars.
My father ran away without plans of coming back.
My house was shattered inside my mother's womb.
I fell away from earth like wings made of flesh,
Fevered and forgotten.
They sifted through my mother's body and did not find me.
I was nothing but nothing died.
I died in the deaths of many people.
I died in many dyings.
Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 5:58 AM UTC