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Twenty-Two Early Poems - 4. left behind
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Poem No. 10
Delusions
Sometimes when I'm alone
Just spending the day at home
I sit and dream of the day
When my children will come and say
"Papa, what was war?"
"What was it like when men would die
and mothers and children could only cry
to know that life no longer filled their lungs,
that the joy of being could no longer be sung?
"And what of hatred, Papa, do tell
could men really fall under its spell
could men under its lure be sane
to inflict such sorrow and pain?
Papa, what of war?"
Poem No. 11
Thoughts of words
I wish I could fill the page with words to an end,
A flowing stream, through eternity to send;
Through tragedy and sin, a thought to reclaim,
A finely flowing thing forever to blame.
Words stronger than a fortress to stand against time,
Phrases so grand, so lovely, tender – forever sublime.
Poem No. 12
My face will fall
and my hair will lay
my skin just fall away
leaving bones about the hall.
It is simple fate
but men deny
that it is human to die
as certain as hate
but, if these words stand
unchanged by time and mind
a piece of me will be left behind.
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- 7
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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