Bits of bodies and corpses
litter the ruined streets
the groans of the wounded
get drowned out by the explosions
of the bombs still raining down
Welcome to the slaughter
the fighting of a pointless war
casualties will be great on both sides
if the bullets don’t kill them
lack of supplies will starve them out
Many of the burning houses are looted
as the walls begin to fall
glass is thrown every where
the debris adding to the carnage on the streets
When the bombardment finishes
leaving only ruins and dead
the survivors will scavenge through the rubble
looking for relatives and food
War is the favourite sport of man
killing is like a hobby
how soon is it till world war 3
when we will all destroy each other
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I will not say there will not be another world war or that mankind will not cease to exist, but I will say that war is usually NOT a hobby. Maybe never! :) Bri