Rocking chair,
rocking chair your tipping
and still tipping!
Rocking chair!
Rocking chair
the swaying is nauseating!

by Francesca Valentina Villa

Other poems of VILLA (3)

Comments (11)

This poem carries the weight of truth from the weight of war. Something many can identify with. I like how he breaks his phrases with dashes, as if trying to explain/justify killing someone he might have enjoyed. War is what justifies it, but it's another matter to condone it.
rule of the west......
as if he's more or less than a man when he goes to war
The tragedy and futility of war, having to shoot at (and in this case kill) someone who could otherwise have been a friend. Heartbreaking.
I see two halves of the same man firing shots at each other..and the futility of it all.
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