I am a war.
I am cold trembling fingers gripping hot metal still smoking from the bullets it fired, the blood seeping into the dirt as fallen men lay to waste.
I am the terrified screams of children as their fathers fight in distant battlefields,
I am the metallic taste of blood and your heart racing in your chest as you run from the threat.
I am soul sucking, heart wrenching,
gut twisting, mind numbing.
I am a war.
YOU ARE READING
the city
Poetryand no matter how much you water scorched grass and withering weeds, you will never make a garden re-grow -M.R c.2016
