Where Poppies Grow
Whistles on the wind, Cries and laughter, They reach my ears, Through all the pain and fear. The sounds of yesterday, Now but a distant memory.
Thousands of free stories. Support your favorites when you're ready.
Showing stories tagged with #soldier-experience Clear filter
Whistles on the wind, Cries and laughter, They reach my ears, Through all the pain and fear. The sounds of yesterday, Now but a distant memory.
Storm the breach and be a hero, Hit the ground and be a zero, Raise your weapon and fire true, Or freeze and realise death is due.
I promised to defend you, your honor etched into my badge. I promised you to stay humane even when blood of another stains my hands.
bullits bouncing everywhere, calls and shouts of young men dead, i sit there waiting for my dutie, for when death claims me bounty i will not turn, death wheres the mask of a common man, till it...
The harsh rhythym of the guns launched an ongoing staccato, as I ran down the beach. Debris was flying everywhere, not to mention the blood and bits of flesh and shards of bone.
You came to me once more in a dream as the stars above did gleam... It begins the same with the beat of a drum... Hands of soldiers sway to a military march like the pleats of a skirt.
By Winifred Mary Letts There was a man, - don't mind his name, Whom Fear had dogged by night and day. He could not face the German guns And so he turned and ran away.
Men lined up to their deaths; facing the nadir of hell, waiting for the final command to plunge into it. I stand with them, cowering from the flames clawing me into its merciless abyss.
It was a terrible war... Many people and horses died over a fight of who's madder.
A poem by Wilfred Owen written from memory: Bent double, like beggars under sacks, knocked-kneed coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge.
This is a poem I wrote to pay tribute to the loves of soldiers who suffer terrible consequences of war. He lay in silence, Still and cold, Like a corpse, But still alive in his soul.
A poem about the world war one trenches:. Bang, bang. The guns are still firing. I'd try to go to sleep but I'm to scared. Plip, plop. The waters still dropping. I'd try to get dry if I still cared.