Dont give in
Soldiers are crying. Children are dying. Yes, I know how the poem goes, but, in some cases, this way makes much more sense, to me. Sign in to see full entry.
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Welcome to madness
In the winding wood's, of Carolina, There on pathway's, up and down, Nestled neath the pines, and green fronds, He said our bodies, would be found, One hand held, a pint of moonshine, The other bore, a twenty-two, Hours of marching, as he taunted, His threats had always, proven true, He needed, no excuse for madness, His madness came, and went with time, A word, a look, or passing fancy, There seemed no reason, nor any rhyme, Mother hid me, behind her body, Staying, between, he and I, Saying,... Sign in to see full entry.