War
is a national pissing day.
It is like a lemon; over time its sour taste will fade.
Rivers run red, tears turn to lakes, and hate only grows within the heart.
War,
a country it does not make.
It destroys, for the belief of a better world.
Is it not said, that we were put upon this world to love?
Why do we send those most dear, to fight for an imploding land?
War, makes a contradictory statement.
For what it comes down to,
may once benefit the people,
but the hearts of man forget nothing.
Especially pain and revenge.
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War is... was a prompt I had to do in class.
Parts of this poem were compilations of other students ideas and my own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem