PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

That's what I told her,

She picked herself 

Up from that soft cotton bed

And drug herself by 

The shoulders,

Her eyes water 

And then glaze over 

At the memories 

Reminisced by tin type soldiers,

All bought and paid for

We imagine they march 

To a hell far from froze over,

Miniature men will bash the brains 

Of others with unaccountable restraint,

I'll see you there