Timothy Timothy Poems

When the sun mixes with the moon it creates a beautiful image but when the sun likes to sleep it stays quite you can hear the shots fired the explosions booming and you are not safe anymore a sense of security is lost and you start to cry and start to ponder if you'll make it out alive or if you will stay buried in the dirt you miss your family your bed and home cooked meals. You start to pray hoping you survive and wanting to see your family again but knowing you wont. You realize you're a sitting duck and things will get worse as you stay, you move through the trenches and you can practically hear penetrating your comrades. You stop and think that you have nothing left to lose, you climb out of the trench and run like hell only to be brought down by millions by not trillions of metal with your last moments you say …….. Why…. Me …….God, Why……Me.
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