Short poetry about war.
Short poetry about war.
A Poem by Coyote Poetry
I’m tire of war and violence.
What is left?
The dead will not rise.
War steal the best from us.
Who remember the people in the mass graves?
Children cry, Soldier die
Old friend you were killed in Iraq.
So far from the safety of your home.
I cried with your children and parent.
You are not forgotten.
A father’s love is never forgotten.
White crosses
How many fields of white crosses are needed.
Soldiers will die and great cities will fall.
War leave no victors.
Only homeless and desperate people paying for the cost of war.
Coyote
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So true and so valid.
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Hard to understand the thirst for war. Thank you for reading and the comment.
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Agreed. My pleasure.
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your words, so true; war, utterly senseless
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I agree. I’m tire of war. Thank you for reading and the comment.
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And yet, we teach our children to love war, through video games, movies, television. How can we be so surprised when they long for it?
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I agree. I was raised with Vietnam alive and well. I joined the Army at 17. I wanted to be like my father. It is sad when kids accept war as norm. Thank you for reading and the comment.
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Wars are fought for reason, but still those who die, get crippled or tortured..never can accept the reason..they always ask why?
Why they had to die, suffer, suffocate even after the war ended.
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Some reasons are not understandable. Why did the USA attack Iraq? We destroyed a organized region. Wars are fought to defend land and people. We were not attacked by the places where the USA is at. 9-11 attack were from friendly nations. War are fought for oil and control. Sad time for the world. Too much death. I tell people. You killed my family. I will revenge. A terrorist is where you are standing. Bring 150,000 soldier into a region. Are you the savior or a terrorist??
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irony is..such
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The families of my mother and father combined with in-law extensions probably provided close to 100 soldiers for WW2. They all came home. Some not in one piece but they all came home.
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WW2 took from all families. My grandmother told me. “Better to be a chicken than a hero. We lost too many to the old wars.” My step-dad was a paratrooper from 1941-1945 in Europe. He won’t discuss the war. Thank you for reading. The graveyard is near Paris.
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