Poems of movellians

Have you written an amazing poem that you are just dying to share? Do you want to spread the word about your favourite poem? Have you got an amazing tip that will make the world go poetry-writing crazy? Or do you just want to read some poems from your fellow movellians? Well, then this is the place for you. If you would like one (or more) of your masterpieces in this movella then just write it in the comment box below and it will appear in the movella. If you would prefer to have your favourite poem appear in this movella then just leave its name, author and why its your favourite poem. If you would like to leave a tip for other people to help them write a poem then leave that in the comments box. And of course if you would like help writing a poem/help someone else write a poem/comment on someone else's poem etc. then leave it in the comments box. I may sometimes run some poetry competitions so look out for them! Looking forward to reading all your poems ~ acciomillie x

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2. A free poem: Don't kill the people you want to protect (this was homework)

 

87 years and not a day has gone by                                                                                                                          That they do not think of those who did die


Lost forever to them now, except in thought                                                                                                     Buried in an unmarked grave,                                                                                                                            Soon there will be no-one left to remember                                                                                                           The dead                                                                                                                                                                     The heroes                                                                                                                                                             The brave

Off to war they when with a swagger and a smile,                                                                                        Innocent and trusting, like lambs to the slaughter                                                                                                  They followed obediently, mile after mile                                                                                                                No chance of stopping, come hell or high water

But soon these men, these boys, learnt the truth,                                                                                                The lie they had been force fed was crumbling

They were free!                                                                                                                                                      But no, they were not,                                                                                                                                            For if they should flee they would be shot                                                                           

Or scorned and mocked for cowardice
Their consciences stripped bare these loving men became killers,                                                                      Hard heartedly shooting without a thought to spare about who was there                                                             They blindly shot at men, who loved, just like them                                                                                               Yet cursed when the opposite side retaliated

Suicide, weapons, illnesses and gasses                                                                                                                 All caused men to be parted from their lasses                                                                                                     Lice and rats were the soldiers new bunk mates                                                                                                       They lived with the dead, it smelled like hells gates

Their homes were nought but trenches                                                                                                              Filled with mud and rotting feet                                                                                                                             The stench of toiled holes and                                                                                                                             Men who hadn’t had anything to eat                                                                                                                     Starved of love and care, on a diet of fear

And yet amongst this evil                                                                                                                                           Close friendships blossomed                                                                                                                           Camaraderie at its best                                                                                                                                       They shared everything                                                                                                                                     Called themselves one                                                                                                                                           Until they were laid to rest

After four years and nine million lives lost                                                                                                      England fought the Germans off                                                                                                                        There was silence, except for the Larks                                                                                                          Singing their song of peace                                                                                                                                  The war was over! They were released!

Back home they went to parties fit for a hero                                                                                                      They were free!                                                                                                                                                      But no                                                                                                                                                               ‘Twas not meant to be

They were not a hero                                                                                                                                            That person had disappeared long ago                                                                                                         Moulded by the foe                                                                                                                                             Even if it didn’t show

Miles of ‘damn trenches’ now scarred the landscape                                                                                      Leaving big tears in the fields for future fighters                                                                                                 Their own memorial and warning to others                                                                                                        Settle your arguments ‘round a round table
Don’t kill the people you want to protect

~Me

I'm not a good poem writer, so don't really want to put my poems on here, but I'd better show willing, no-ones poems will be worse than mine so please don't hold back. Please could one (or more) of you kind movellians give me some cc, I would be eternally grateful and will follow you. This poem wasn't supposed to have a proper rhythm or rhyme, its a free poem, but if you think I should change it then please let me know. I am really sorry about the layout, I have tried to get it straight but it doesn't work, has anyone got any suggestions? Sorry for asking so much of you all.

Thank you for taking the time to read my poem, acciomillie.  

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