I no longer heard the beautiful birdsI heard vultures
Surrounding the dead bodies
Of Gettysburg
The foul in the air
Smother my sprouts
With blood everywhere
I just couldn’t get out
The action was starting to begin
Soldiers killing each other with harmful weapons
Laying above earth green grass and soil
I’ve seen enough time to cool them off
I begin to let them feel the breeze
Trying to blow the anger off them
Which makes it worst
They felt the wind and try to finish the war even quicker
I feel sad for those who fought here, on the battle field,
Killed and wounded, on the battle field,
I cry tears for those, on the battle field,
Hoping that one day there will be no more war, on this Battle field…
Killed and wounded, on the battle field,
I cry tears for those, on the battle field,
Hoping that one day there will be no more war, on this Battle field…
2 comments:
I really like your ending and beginning. Very good poem. Again, i could not find the 19th century slang. Other than that, this is a very solid and well put together poem.
28/30
Pretty good best one i have seen so far i like the way you use the defination in the reason you picked it. but i have no eddits
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