The House Where I Live...
This is the house,
Where I live.
This is where I can never think,
And never sleep,
and where I am surrounded in a claustrophobic hell.
This is where I kill,
And suffer;
Where I believe to be damned.
And in this house, one can hear the cries of the helpless,
The shot heard around the world,
and the scurry of rats.
And can see the helpless fall,
The continuous rounds of death,
and rats the size of small children.
And one feels that in this house the men who occupy it will never feel the love they once felt outside this house,
and feel a sense of despair.
And a single red poppy can only bring hope to this house.
Where I live.
This is where I can never think,
And never sleep,
and where I am surrounded in a claustrophobic hell.
This is where I kill,
And suffer;
Where I believe to be damned.
And in this house, one can hear the cries of the helpless,
The shot heard around the world,
and the scurry of rats.
And can see the helpless fall,
The continuous rounds of death,
and rats the size of small children.
And one feels that in this house the men who occupy it will never feel the love they once felt outside this house,
and feel a sense of despair.
And a single red poppy can only bring hope to this house.
♠ ♠ ♠
This was for a poem project in my history class on the subject of World War I. My teacher really liked it so I thought I would share it with you.Feedback?
Thank for reading!
Peace, Love, and Chemicals!
xoxo
Sweeney Way