World War Three

Running, running, running.
Scream and don't look back.
Bombs echoing overhead,
Fireworks of antiaircrafts.
Embers fall on crumpled bodies,
And cascade into pools of crimson liquid,
There lie teardrops too.

In my mind,
World War Three replays over and over.
For though my life is not very chaotic to you,
To me, it seems no one else has any freaking idea...





Join the Discussion

This article has 2 comments. Post your own now!

Twisted This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Dec. 10, 2009 at 4:01 pm
Wow, this is crazy good
I love the description! Its awsome :)
 
~xdragonflysawrzx~ replied...
Dec. 10, 2009 at 5:43 pm
Thanks! It was a really big hole I fell into, and this poem came outta it!
 
bRealTime banner ad on the left side
Site Feedback