Casualties of ware we are,
Luck to escape but we're now the displaced ones,
Scrambling for survival,
Loosing our empire,
Now displace like the slaves we once had but....
Slaves do have shelter while we shiver in the cold night,
No clothing to keep the babies warm.
Casualties of war we are,
War of words it was
But we rather be physical than die in our heart,
We rather lack shelter than loose our love.
If only we admitted to being soft,
We won't be bleeding by the stabs of words we called blunt.
Explanation:
Funny enough this poem was written at a very odd time, I was having literature class and this woman kept yapping and she said something about casualties of war a poem from her secondary school days and I decided to write mine, at least to receive my ears from the shouting. The poem is just about how words really hurt people. Many people are described as "blunt" cos their words too are "blunt" and the unfortunate soft hearted people who try to feel tough engage in conversation with these "blunt" guys and many times Thier hearts bleed from the stab of "blunt" words.
YOU ARE READING
ALL OF ME
PoetryALL OF ME is strictly poetry. It's all my heart has to offer, all my thoughts, my past, my present, my wishes. It's all about my life and the lives of those I love, mostly those I love cos I kinda find it difficult to write how I feel, actually none...
