Two men wage a silent war;
A pointless petty game.
He doesn’t know and he ignores,
Their motives are the same.
One called peace-a final card
To cease the silent war,
And one-his soul too foul and hard,
The card he never saw.
Two men fight a quiet war;
The declaration lost
To time long held behind a door;
Where the men’s paths had first crossed.
One man hopes the road soon ends
And starts a path more free.
He hopes the wounds of war will mend,
That one man, is me.
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Thank you, Tim. There is a storytelling (more recently literary/drama merit) history ‘gene’ in your family (maternal line) which you obviously inherited! <3 Beth, NZ
thank you beth! Its nice to see a family face here on the blog too =)
I like this one! Nice work.
thank you, I had to read it again before i liked it. I wasn’t pleased with it while it was being written-its strange how just leaving something the same but coming back to it later can change your own opinion of something.
yes, thats very true! but i’m amazed that it only took me a day to change my mind about it.
I like this one! Nice work.
thank you, I had to read it again before i liked it. I wasn’t pleased with it while it was being written-its strange how just leaving something the same but coming back to it later can change your own opinion of something.
I guess it’s because we are always changing and are never really in the same place twice!
yes, thats very true! but i’m amazed that it only took me a day to change my mind about it.
Dude… what can I say…
I hope you are in charge of the next war on the schedule…
Mollie. my my 13 year old did a post… the hello blogesphere one… comments will make her so happy… thanks, buddy.
Mollie. my my 13 year old did a post… the hello blogesphere one… comments will make her so happy… thanks, buddy.