SP ( / )

Soapbox Sorrows

Mothers on the ground, collapsing, withering
As the snakes in politics keep on slithering

I'm not one for religion
Not if this is the result

People fighting over land
Dirty and blood soaked

Wives are crying
Husbands dying
On both sides of strife

Bombs are flying
Weasels vying
Broken, tattered

Children lying
Children laying
Dead upon bike spokes

They had future
They had yokes
Spun up on gold ropes

They had wants
They had needs
Of they never spoke

They had dreams
Beautiful things
Betwixt the sodden folk

The battle may be over now
But the war keeps continuing
It calls out inside my head
Are echoing

Marrow clumps, dried up reams
Fill this hollow girth
As I can't help but shed a tear
For this sad stained earth

User Rating: 5,0 / 5 ( 1 votes ) 1

Robert Frost

The Road Not Taken

Comments (1)

I love the rhyme scheme and choice of words.