All lined up like little soldiers
each one takes a burden from your shoulders.
Standing neatly dressed in red
But each without a little head.
Blood splashes from a soldier near,
You try to wipe away a tear.
Row on row they stand in trenches.
Like red pillars that make the fences.
Perfectly straight, a little line.
Each one is really just a sign.
Along each stable piece of ground,
If they're touched you make no sound.
They're not spoken of, nor seen.
Like silent dancers, thin and lean
All dressed in red they play their part
Leaving scars from the start.
YOU ARE READING
Use Your Words
PoetryThis is a poem about the words right here in this book. Watch me laugh and smile then take a look Into the deepest corners of my mind. Please don't fear for what you might find. Don't cower from the truth. This is my revolution. I refuse to be silen...
