war
guns fire
shrapnal blows
im sick of the war
i wish it would go
it takes are men
it kills our dreams
jest for ones evle sceam
no good can come
jest hurt and dispare
i cry at night
in the worm air
but do they care
could the care
no
in humen swines fill are world with pain and dispare
show me why the world must live
in pain and strife
fuck there jest kids
no older then me
holding a gun
stop the war
god its not fun
by
cunnmatt249posted on 03/26/2007
Vote:


Comments: 5
Click here to send this poem to a friend