Coulisse

Sometimes people speak, but their voices are never heard. That usually applies to teenagers, unfortunately. This poem took me about half an hour to write, and it was definitely inspired by “Hands Held High” by Likin Park, not to mention Darfur and the war in Iraq.

War of Your Life

You try your best to stop
A pain in your chest
You begin to cry
Because your boyfriend lied
Over there
There’s killing without care
They cry
Because their family died

Here we sleep sound
Always dream bound
While they pray
That they’ll see the next day
Where noise is thrown around
With blood on the ground
Chaos everywhere
Bombs in the air
Deafening screams
Rip you from your dreams
Smoke filling your eyes
Just like the lies
So that you can’t see
What really should be

Madness swirling around
Dead bodies in a mound
Fear filling every vein
A bullet
Someone dies again

No thanks to all the wrong,
Your hope is all gone
Nowhere is peace
Here, we’re obese
Here, there’s greed
Here, there’s wrong
Everything’s wrong
They always die young
The ones who are strong

We watch on the sidelines
Reading bold headlines
We’re free as birds
We listen and observe
Nothing happens
There’s no action
Houses still burn
Families still year
People die, children cry
Nothing is done
Nothing is won
Nothing but fear

There’s ringing in their ears
Where there’s blood and tears
People scream and yell
After bodies fell

Will there be no more
After this war?