This Is War

I wrote this in high school, 2008, for a poetry contest we all had to put in for our English class. I won first place though I think because I was the only one who took it seriously.

 

Sirens are sounding and blaring about

My weary head I lift high

My heart turns to stone and soft goes my stomach

I run with my weapon and turn a blind eye

 

No time for farewells

This my dear, is war

 

To the battlefields they scream to me

And to the battlefield I go

Hurry now the show is to start

In the sky with the works the carrion crow

 

No time for farewells

This my dear, is war

 

Bullets rip and eat at our ranks

Blind goes my eye and deaf goes my ear

And suddenly I find myself all alone

With no one to keep company but the grim and black marketeer

 

No time for farewells

This my dear, is war

 

And carrion surround like hungry harpies

Waiting to carry away the dead

Crimson pools reflect the moons light

As empty eyes stare ahead

 

No time for farewells

This my dear, is war

 

The wind howls its mourning

But I scream my sorrow

To the reaper I ask

Could a little more time these people not borrow

 

And to this he replied

 

No time for farewells

This my dear, is war

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