Go on then,
Put a bullet in my head,
It doesn't matter that I'm dead,
I need to get off to bed.
I was learning how to kill,
At only ten years old,
I loved making blood spill,
This controller was my world.
No one played outside anymore,
So I stayed stuck in my room,
I just found general life a bore,
I was happy enveloped in gloom.
The light clicked off,
The clock struck ten,
My console was finally shut down,
But the violence and gore still played in my head,
Stuck going round and around.
But that night I dreamt of dreadful things,
One of a woman having to say goodbye,
I saw the hurt of what war brings,
I saw many soldiers die.
All she received was a single letter,
Saying her lover was gone,
She looked at the skies,
She cried and cried,
He would never saw his baby born.
I wake up with a startle,
My phone is dancing away,
It's my friend asking me to come online,
But I said not today.
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Poet's Notes about The Poem
The important thing that you take from this poem is not to quit gaming, but the respect the fact as your killing pieces of code, real people are dying. They don't get no reset, just game over.
Remember those who have fallen for our freedom.
Comments about this poem (Game Over by Joel Duncan )
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