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Open Poetry #36
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The Bombs
| Open Poetry #36 |
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The Bombs |
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Edward Grim Senior Member
since 2005-12-18
Posts 1154Greenville, South Carolina 
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The Bombs The bombs that drop above my head, Are bombs of ache and shame. The bombs that drop into my bed, Are bombs of grief and pain. As the bombs rain down, They are surely found on a clear and distant day. The bombs, they fall, They fall to the ground. Landing in my way. The craters they make are homes for the forsaken. And graves for those they’ve taken. The bombs they fall onto this earth without regret. The ones who drop them will forever be forgotten. For they are mere shadows upon my silhouette, This pain is not real for the bomb has swept it away. But the bombs are gone, like the earth is gone. And my spirit gone astray. |
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| © Copyright 2005 Edward Grant - All Rights Reserved | |||
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OwlSA Member Rara Avis
since 2005-11-07
Posts 9347Durban, South Africa |
I found your thoughts very interesting in this poem (as in the others I have read), but didn't expect the last line (or perhaps the last 2). - Owl |
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