William

Monday 26 November 2012

Senses poem




Sadness
The blood stained battle-field that shows
no mercy
Acidic , sharp gunpowder that stings my bloody nose after every shot
Nothing but constant ringing in my head
that overpowers everything but my
precious thoughts
The never ending gloom that fills the
dreary camp
The salty saliva in my constant nightmares
I think the end is coming … fast!
Quinn

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