A war poem by Abigail Murray, 8J
The larks have stopped whistling,
My brain is thinking of home,
While singing songs waiting for our time,
To go home!
Walking through the trenches with my hand on my heart,
When all i can see are the kindling eyes in the dark.
People around me screaming in pain,
And who will be next to play the brutal game?
Bullets are flying all around with people lying on the ground,
What has happened to our life, are we even going to survive?
Our youth has passed over with no games or fun,
And now all i want to hear is the cheers to say we have won!