It's War

It's War

By: Paige Collins

Authors Note: Bored was I when I wrote this. If you don't understand it, you need you to read it.

It's unexplainable,

Something not told,

A secret inside myself,

Something not shown.

It sometimes scares me the way I act,

The way I react,

To different things,

Things in the past,

That would last,

In my memory forever.

It scares me to think that's the way I used to be,

Scared, but hopeful,

Wonderful,

Free,

But freedom won't last long,

I assure you,

It's something here today and may,

Not be around tomorrow.

I'm losing it sometimes,

On the verge,

Of going out of my mind,

And maybe I am,

And don't know it,

Because who knows anymore?

It's something I live with all the time,

It's something unmentionable to anyone,

It's war, all right,

If you were wondering.

Maybe it's not the prettiest way,

To spend the night,

The afternoon,

The whole day,

But it's my choice,

It's what I choose,

To find for freedom,

Freedom for me and you.

Whatever you call it,

It sounds bad,

Blood coming out of your back, arms, chest,

Guts dragging along the floor,

Blood spilled on the floor,

That's the kind of war,

I'm talking about.

It's not something you want,

I want,

Anyone would want,

But who would?

I'm not sure it's right,

But it's all I can do,

From the Yeerk invasion,

Over the earth.

It's war,

It's not great,

Believe me,

Or you'll end up dead,

It's the non-believers who will kill us,

Slow us down,

So won't you accept the war?

Accept maybe it is war,

Not just battles and fights,

So speed us up and join us.

It's war, all right,

I sometimes see things I don't want to see,

But it's war, all right,

What else could it be?

Nothing else as dark,

As horrible,

As watching your friends dying.

So next time you think your life is rough,

Think, that's war,

Be glad you don't do it,

Like we,

Do,

Because it ain't something we like,

Or anyone does.

It's war…okay?

Blood spilled on the dirty tile floor,

Listening to groans and roars of animals dying,

My friends are those,

People,

Animals who do and almost do,

Die.

So please won't you accept the fact,

Life isn't always going to be like you want it to be,

Your personal little world will be interrupted,

But it's not something I can help,

Try lying in your bed and thinking to yourself,

You'll think it's horrible and brutal,

But I'll say it's war.

Authors Note: Why it may look spaced so long is because I like to make sure it's spaced good.

This poem is four pages long, by the way.