Freedom
30 July, 2005
Author: Salvador
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Freedom is believed to be a right so we say, how about all the women and men that were slain? They fight for what is free, as bullets rain, soldiers scream, pain is a reality. Wishing it was all a dream, make it all go away. I’ve been in this hole for three days. Men die women cry, unborn babies never seen. Is this freedom? I’m a slave, I’m tired of all the pain, watching people die, realizing It’s all a game, a giant power play, It’s not freedom, It’s not rights, it’s my brothers and sisters out here dieng tonight. I want to go home, I feel all alone with five hundred people in the field I don’t even know all ordered to kill and defend. Putting on a freak show. Hope it’s worth it to you all. Is this freedom? |
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Comments on this poem/writing:
| anonymous (207.200.116.136) -- Monday, August 1 2005, 07:57 am Hard to under stand why we humans keep killing each other? Fighting for freedom, a great price to pay. Is it for population control? Must we become no more and start again? Good poem, gets you thinking...thanks |
| Terrie* (69.19.168.137) -- Monday, August 1 2005, 10:12 pm Salvador,i know what 'cha mean,made friends with this gentleman many years back,whom stopped to assist me on the freeway when i was fixin' a flat,he shared that he came back from Nam not quite himself, kept havin' flashbacks, went on antidepressants, they thought he was crazed, he even lost his wife,she was unable to put up with what he was cursed with, truth was he had seen way too much,sad what he shared. the price of Freedom Costs many their lifes even while they are alive. sad isn't it that so many do what they do ,all because they love me and you..all i cain say is ,love and support A Veteran! excellent write.. |
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