The Casualties of War
Poem by Teaya Smith
They say hell hath no fury like a woman scorned until you have seen the casualties of war. The women and children that are left behind, the men that come home crippled and blind. You can see the dismay across the land, and it feels that you have entered the devil's hand. Planes are flying overhead and you pray above and ask the lord for all his love, for the moment the bomb lands life as you know it becomes part of the sands. So please stop! Stop the fighting for the children's sake. For the moment they leave and close the door is the moment they become the casualty of war
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The Problems with My Generation
Damned if we do and damned if we don't. Too much is getting confused and left out. Understanding misconstrued information and elusive expectations is getting hard for me to comprehend but what do you expect when talking to people that don't even know the meaning of reality. The drawn out conversations over minuscule compound substances is redundant and not worth the waste of breath. The request for respect that has yet to be earned makes me question the loyalty of the requester for he obviously has no self preservation. This being said I have found many people walking with false pretenses about the compound substances they seem to be addicted to. Having a lack of understanding for the risk that comes with it. Then getting irate at the problematic consequences they find themselves facing repetitively searching for a liable defending argument to justify the action leading to the problem in the first place. I call this self destruction at its finest and then justifying the mold to witch was created. Not even blaming or pointing fingers just overlooking that the real person to be confronting is themselves.
By Zeeta mckeltar6 years ago in Poets
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