A Mother's Tear
There's more to the story,
than what just appears.
A war written story,
from blood and from tears.
Almost as long as there has been life, war has been a part of it. Mankind continues to wage war even though the consequences often breed nothing but misery. However, when a person is called to defend his or her country, or protect other defenseless people, it is his duty to fight. There is no question that there is evil in the world and we must not rest on our laurels and say it is none of our business. We cannot stand by and watch while others are being persecuted. It is the duty of mankind to uphold justice.
There's more to the story,
than what just appears.
A war written story,
from blood and from tears.
Definitely it has touched my heart. Not mine, but on each reader's minds, this poem has created a very emotional ache. It is about freedom, fight, love and pain. And this poem describes...
Advertisement
He says he's leaving.
He'll be gone about a year.
He's headed off to fight the war,
And his time is drawing near.
True love is like a flower. Its beauty will glow and your feeling will flow, but love is also like the seasons. It can come and go, but there is one thing that I know and I intend to show. I...
A tear ran down her cheek
As she read the words he wrote
His dad sat at the table
With a lump in his throat
Advertisement
To those whom I've fought with
and to those I don't know your name,
we fought by one another.
You did not die in vain.
We have an understanding, you and I.
We sit in silence; nothing needs to be said.
I know the weight you carry.
If I don't make it home, please remember it wasn't because I didn't try.
The last thing I wanted was to make you cry.
I wanted more than anything to make it back to you,
This was a beautiful poem about the plight of all the men and women who sacrifice their lives daily for our freedom. The families and friends they leave behind for the love and cost for...
Advertisement
Advertisement
There's a little boy standing by the fence with a flag in his hand.
He's sad and confused; he doesn't understand.
He watches his daddy turn and head up on the bus.
He watches him go and doesn't even fuss.
This poem was beautifully delivered. Every word you wrote created a picture in my head. Well done.
When you wake up in the morning or stay up nights on end,
Know that your sister is here till the very end.
When you gather your equipment and grasp your gun,
Know that you're loved, brother, uncle, son.
Hey I think your poem is amazing although quite sad. I hope he comes back soon and wish your family happiness.
Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
Blood starts drippin' from the soldier's wound
Seeps like sewage 'neath the politician's room
Deep in the house, white fades to red
Very nice poetry. I am overwhelmed. The poet is great who understand teary and hearty feelings of the people towards our great soldiers.