This May be a War
The skies rain shells of pain,
Cannons sound in the distant background;
I'm not ready to come out of this protected but lonesome shelter,
Everytime I make my step I decide to turn around.
I peek out of this hole,
Seeing bullets richochet off the soldiers wearing thick denim;
I'm scared, we're outnumbered,
I could be the next one dead after him.
This trench stinks,
It's so uncomfortable;
There must be something out there,
Something unimaginable.
I cock my gun and dig up my courage,
I tell my comrade I'm ready;
He pants briskly,
He says it's not going to be easy.
The whistle sounds,
Many charged out of their holes,
I looked back;
Seeing those hiding - still unsure of their souls.
I glance over the border,
I saw people - my family, classmates and few of my friends;
They are firing at us,
They want this to end.
Ferociously provoked,
I arm my weapons;
I try to pull the trigger,
But something tells me - there are better reasons.
Observing my companions,
No one was shooting;
We are slowly crossing the barrier,
With many of us dying.
Something struck my head,
It wasn't a bullet;
It was a thought,
That deserved great merit.
Our enemies are under oath,
From a panicking authority;
We see our friends, family and those we love obey blindly,
But I know I still love all of them - yes indeed.
--Screwed
>< screwed, I'll have to say something changed in your writing. I suggest repolishing the poem more rhythmically and less forced-rhyming. Although, I did like the image. I had a well-rendered movie playing in my head as I read through.
Well, I like it the way it is. This poem isn't focused on the rhythm anyway. At least not in the sense that it should have the overly cliche, boring and dull flow of having similar amounts of syllables in each line and verse. It's more of the contrast in some short and long lines to develop the different pace of the poem at each given moment of the "battle". On top of that, I tend to focus on the meaning more anyway. None of my poems' meaning(s) actually come literally from the poem.
So maybe it's not that obvious. This isn't just any poem talking about any random pathetic and violent war. It's a metaphor about the coming out of a GLBT youth and the acceptance of queer people.