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Walking the Dead

Loud explosions
bullets wiz past my head
bodies falling
many lying dead
\Open a door only to find
many a head
cast here and there
bodies in a stack
scattered everywhere
\Silence now
so disturbing to hear
not sure what is next
my life clinging so dear
\Skin crawling
heart thumping
belly in knots
eyes flashing
waiting for the next drop
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Drew Gullion More than 1 year ago
I wrote this poem while thinking of those soldiers in Iraq and the horendous sites of war.
Poetry.com 4 out of 5 based on 0 ratings. 3 reviews.
Gajanan Mishra More than 1 year ago
Velma Carbajal More than 1 year ago
I felt like I was there...
CHRIS SAFFLE More than 1 year ago
I hate giving a low rating to ANYTHING. This subject apparently speaks to you. It doesn't need to speak to me. I do not know if writing this was cathartic for you (an experience you have had? battle? war?) Pay no attention as to whether I "liked" reading this or not. Maybe I did not like reading it because I thought that it may have been associated to something that happened in your life that was vile, and ugly. Art does not have to be pretty to be effective. It may not speak to me, but I am sure there are some out there that may feel differently. Keep it up!
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