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This poem is part of the contest:

Neopoem Of The Week July 17th through July 23 2022

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World of Hurt

The soldier won, at what value
Seek for old friends once in a bind
We bear rights, the fight won because of you
The ones most needed, you're sure to find

Harvests lost, wine spilled, a battle for brains not brawn
If one sees, through brave eyes,
A soldier fought, with weapons drawn
Tis’ not lost, other than your allies

It’s a cruel world
With friends that turn into our enemies
Where boys turn into men
History will tend to repeat itself again

In God We Trust, but not our friends
Bullet runs through his head
We put trust into those who might be our end
A spy of sorts who wanted him dead

Forever set, a precious moon is lost
The others, thought to have mourned him, with ceremony grand
Falling down from heaven, the devil breathes frost
With a sad melody from the mourning band

A man who put his trust in the rain
Watering the people he grows into diamonds
Waiting to see the rainbow during his pain
His story was cut short, put to an end.

About This Poem

Last Few Words: This means a lot to me because. no matter how long you fight people will fight with you and against you. That doesn't mean that the worlds going to end because there is always somethng that you can look forward to. This poem is writen from an alternative ending to my grandpa's life; if he didn't make it home from world war 2.

Style/Type: Free verse

Review Request Direction: How was the beginning/ending of the poem?

Review Request Intensity: I want the raw truth, feel free to knock me on my back

Editing Stage: Editing - polished draft

About the Author

Country/Region: New York

Favorite Poets: Edgar Allen Poe

More from this author

Comments

Rosewood Apothecary

Rosewood Apothecary

2 years 11 months ago

Welcome Joe

Welcome to the site. Let me be the first to tell you I enjoyed reading this. I’m gonna go have another look here in a minute. I really love the last two stanzas.

Forever set, a precious moon is lost
The others, thought to have mourned him, with ceremony grand
Falling down from heaven, the devil (breathes) his frost
With a sad melody from the mourning band

A man who put his trust in the rain
Watering the people (he grows) into diamonds
Waiting to see the rainbow during his pain
His story was cut short, put to an end.

Stuff in parentheses are my suggestions. Those are really great stanzas. They stand out in a stand out poem. Really great job.

Welcome and I look forward to reading more,
Tim

Joe Cercone

Joe Cercone

2 years 11 months ago

Thank You!

Hi Tim,

Thanks I really appreciate your input, and thank you for welcoming me into this community I can't wait to make more poems.

Joe