Self Pity

People have different reasons for their own ending,
all retold in some sadistic club.
Selfishness. Guilt. Most of the time their fault.
They think that any empty oblivion that awaits them is better than the oblivion they left behind.
Yet they dont think about their families,
the friends
the lovers they left in that oblivion,
ashamed,
desperate,
Why?


If their brother,
their father,
their son,
their husband
Was so desperate,

So ashamed,

So afraid,

Of fighting for his country,

Why are they so veiled to the truth?

Love?

Passion?

Denial?

By Abby

Red.

The redness.
The darkness.
It fell and splattered-
to kill. To die.

 Hot sticky liquid stains the unknown for eternity.
Everywhere it will mark.
When it leaves...
you will feel the company of death.
It left remains of the dead.
Yet we keep it close to us.
Always.

They don't know the destruction and mess they make.
Will it stop leaking?
Through the cracks yet to be healed.
It still remains.
Always remains.
The debris and shrapnel.
Littered throughout the land.

Remaining to creep.
Remaining to remember.
Remaining to honor.

Ayleigh Loomes

My reply to Jessie Pope

I'm not made for the trench-
Are you my lassie?
I don't want pain-
Would you my lassie?
My lights will go out,
I'll be eaten by rats,
Could you do that under anyone's name,
my lassie?

I'm not going to kill-
Would you my lassie?
I'll go for the feather-
And you my lassie?
I'm not against a single man,
Won't shoot at the hull,
My life may be dull,
So what my lassie?

I'm not ready for the stench-
Are you my lassie?
I won't trudge through mud-
would you my lassie?
I won't get deaf from the bangs ,
I'll shudder at clangs,
I"ll keep away from the gas,
Will you my lassie?

The Weak

The Weak

 The tear tracks, down haggard faces
Drawn mouths, trembling hands
Is it so bad?
Understanding is a powerful thing.


 Guns, Death
Rivulets of blood and spit
Making tracks, forming streams in the mud.
Sacrifice is a necessary thing.


 How are we to defeat them,
Make them fall,
If we don't stumble too?
Estimation is a essential thing.

 Sitting whilst others must move,
Orders, lists, drinks
Office of Death
Initiative is an important thing.

  By Abby

Wave the White Flag

Mud sodden, malnourished and fatigued,

Is this how they want us to live?

Rotting like the gums of corpses,

Is this how they want us to die?

We are mere pawns in their game of chess,

To them, we are grains of salt,

We fear for our lives as they sit at large tables,

pushing around knick knacks with long sticks,

They fret about their uniforms,

while we have no say in the scrubs we wear for years,

They shine their shoes,

While we galumph in boots two sizes too big,

We say wave the white flag,

For we cannot endure the wavering white eyes of the dead,

Wave the white flag,

For everyday we live; is worse than a day in hell,

Wave, the white flag.

By Sandy T

Homework

War poem on hunger

My stomach growls at night,

A sign that it is suffering from hunger,

I’m putting up a fight,

But I have an urge to plunder,

And go away on war sight,

What keeps me in is thunder,

Of the bombshells,that’s right,

In the morning we heard “GO UNDER”,

We fought with all our might,

If I was to die with wonder,

I would say “Do not fight,stay out of sight.”

The Definition of War

The definition of War

How to define this war,

It’s not the loud scream of the rifle,

Or the bellowing commands,

No, it’s not that simple.

It’s the final breath of an enemy troop,

The gentle thud as he hits the ground,

It’s the empty eyes rolling back,

But the hatred still staring.

How to define this war,

It’s the soft wheeze of the horses,

The skin shriveling up after gas,

And his lungs collapsing in desperation,

How to define this war,

It’s not the loud scream of the rife,

Or the bellowing commands,

No. It’s just not that simple.

By Bex

breathe in and out

i think to myself

it it time

time to go home

i look at my fingers

close my eyes

and lift my fingers above the trench wall

by Jack Horsnell

GAS!!! put your masks on

everyone else has got their leather masks on

I hold my breath

my eyes begin to burn

i search for my mask i cant find it

i cant hold my breath

i breathe out an in

my lunges begin to fill

i feel the blood coming up my throat

i vomit it out

i begin to fade

as i fall into the swirling darkness

death

by Jack Horsnell

Welcome to the War Words blog!

This is where to post your poems and other writing.  Please read the writing of others and give constructive feedback.  It is a place to share and learn, from and through the writing and comments of others.