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As The World Lies Dead
As the world lies dead,
I scratch my head,
Colours; brown, black,
Red with dred.
Men lie upon the ground,
Scattered all about,
Young eyes shouldn't see,
A leg here, an elbow there,
Blood full of crud.
My eyes decieve me,
For there lies a flag,
Bright, clean, free,
It all stands for Liberty!
How is it so, with blood all about?
I scratch my head,
As the world lies dead.
Flags are coated in the blood
Flags are coated in the blood of the innocent yet the ideology bleaches the proof out.
great poem btw
The darkness outside is not so frightening as the one inside. Behind knowing smiles and crocodile tears we hide our fears.
Being angry at someone is to give them power over you, but to forgive is to take away that power.
this is a deep poem and straight 2 the point i likes
Hmm, it ended very surprisingly. I like this poem.