PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I grew up in this little town

in this old and huge wooden house

we were big as a family

and playtime was the best of them all



my favorite hiding place was down below

where the sack of rice were kept and sewn

cans and bottles were scattered around

I was just lucky the snakes were not abound



It faces the shoreline of the big wide sea

and every afternoon I'd catch the snails and

fish that came my way,when dusk is near I

hurry home,only my eyes are colored white



I always visit this treasured house of ours

the memories I always keep alive

our family so happy and gay

until that tragic and fateful day



the rebels were on their shooting spree

and a soldier sought refuge in my hiding place

he was alone since all has

gone away,and there he met his tragic death



now I look at my favorite hiding place

can't help but cry and wonder how he died,

and were his children still young and scared

and did this war leave a scar in their hearts



my hiding place will never be the same

my memories are smeared with blood

realities confront my breaking heart

and pray that peace will have it's place



this piece is dedicated to you

your name will never be remembered

but in my heart you will always be

the brave soldier who died in my hiding place