Out of the War
By: Paige Collins
Out of the war,
Into the sunlight,
It warms my face,
And feel so right.
Sometimes I wanted to break free,
Run away,
From all to see.
I want out of the war,
I want to be alone,
Crying in my room,
While singing a song.
I want to dash through the woods,
And cut my legs on the branches,
Away from the horror,
And blood of the war.
I won't stand proud,
I won't be happy,
Till I see the joyful sunlight,
And break through the glass,
And shatter the war.
And step on the war,
And watch it crawl and die,
On the floor.
Or I take a something slightly large,
And fling it through the shiny blood-stained glass of war,
And step on the broken pieces,
For it's no more.
But I can't do this,
For war is something you can't touch,
I can't destroy it,
But that is too bad.
I'll always want to leave,
Break out of the war,
Abandon my friends,
Leave my life to be no more.
But I'll break into the war,
And help fight,
And fall to the darkness of the night,
As I crash to the ground, but I'll continue to fight,
Out of the war,
Doesn't feel so right.
Author's Note: Okay, little poem lesson: things like fight, right and night rhyming (spelling? this doesn't have a spell check I don't think) one sfter the other and it sounds really...cheap? I dunno...it doesn't sound quite right. Please review.
Oh, and this is Cassie telling it. I've wrote about fives things similar to this before, I know I have, but she doesn't want to fight, yeah, yeah, yeah. You know...I have wrote something like this...or did I?
Okay, I'll stop now.
By: Paige Collins
Out of the war,
Into the sunlight,
It warms my face,
And feel so right.
Sometimes I wanted to break free,
Run away,
From all to see.
I want out of the war,
I want to be alone,
Crying in my room,
While singing a song.
I want to dash through the woods,
And cut my legs on the branches,
Away from the horror,
And blood of the war.
I won't stand proud,
I won't be happy,
Till I see the joyful sunlight,
And break through the glass,
And shatter the war.
And step on the war,
And watch it crawl and die,
On the floor.
Or I take a something slightly large,
And fling it through the shiny blood-stained glass of war,
And step on the broken pieces,
For it's no more.
But I can't do this,
For war is something you can't touch,
I can't destroy it,
But that is too bad.
I'll always want to leave,
Break out of the war,
Abandon my friends,
Leave my life to be no more.
But I'll break into the war,
And help fight,
And fall to the darkness of the night,
As I crash to the ground, but I'll continue to fight,
Out of the war,
Doesn't feel so right.
Author's Note: Okay, little poem lesson: things like fight, right and night rhyming (spelling? this doesn't have a spell check I don't think) one sfter the other and it sounds really...cheap? I dunno...it doesn't sound quite right. Please review.
Oh, and this is Cassie telling it. I've wrote about fives things similar to this before, I know I have, but she doesn't want to fight, yeah, yeah, yeah. You know...I have wrote something like this...or did I?
Okay, I'll stop now.