I am broken although strong.
I wonder how many will wake the next day.
I hear the voices of my fallen comrades.
I see the poisonous fog and the bodies of eternal sleepers.
I want to be in the presence of the beloved.
I am broken although strong.
I pretend the sights dont bother me.
I feel the embrace of my dear friend.
I touch the head of a troubled soul.
I worry that we will not see the end.
I cry for the ones we have lost.
I am broken although strong.
I understand that I cannot give in.
I say that we will win.
I dream that we will go home.
I try to get up.
I hope this will all be over.
I am broken although strong.
I wrote this when I was a sophomore in high school. It was during my history class when we talked about World War II. So sorry if its weird.
YOU ARE READING
Even If Its Not
PoetryThis is just a bunch of stuff I write, whether its poetry or not, it still holds meaning to my self being, aka my humanity in a way. Also, its from a note book I've been writing in when ever I cant sleep or feel down so I hope you enjoy.
