Toy Soldiers Walking

Poem By Robert Lawrence

I see the soldiers walking, their heads held up high
Through the hills of no return they ride, guns in the air
A simple game of cowboys and Indians, just like the kids have played
Though the kids had no idea, that green soldiers can stain red
I hold the figure in silence, my heart as heavy as an army of one
But I do not doubt his purpose, because the hero always won
But only in the hearts of kids, as they tuck in for the night
They shut their eyes from the truth, they lose their innocent sight
No one at home speaks of those they do not know
Because their footprints can be traced to days of happiness and snow
I give my heart out to those, who say theirs are broken
Though I do not know your name, your emptiness has spoken
Never fear young child, your father will someday return
To teach you the values of life, you never thought you’d learn
And so I reach the end my lines; have I spoken my heart?
Or should I dare speak of the man on the hill, who slowly fell apart

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and hold happiness in the same hand?
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Did you fall from the sky to save me?
Then I must be a demon.
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I’m a prisoner, locked behind the bars of reality.
Reality is the devil.
Watching me work, watching me bleed.
Reality’s cruelty gives birth to a dream.

Blind Wanderer In A Dark Forest (Sonnet 10)

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They make me think and try to remember
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I’m walking in a dark alley.
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I see markings in the walls- and in my heart I know
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