September rain falls on my house
Like a hail of bullets drowning the militia
I am not a little boy afraid of the dark
I am a cowardly soldier too scared to fight
Lightning might flash, and thunder might crack
But I see bombs destroying the rest
My house does not sway in the howling wind
My fortress is falling under fire
This is no storm, this is war
And I’m waiting for the end
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The Connecticut Writing Project Young Writers have their own e-anthology of their work. Enjoy!
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6 comments:
Nice poem! Young Writers rule!
Jon i love this you are an amazing writer keep it up baby
John, this is is wonderful! I particularly like "I am not a little boy afraid of the dark- I am a cowardly soldier too scared to fight" That really lets me feel your fear! Way to go! Lynn
that is sooo good! i love the way you made the semotember rain relate to the whole war setting. i never would have though of that!
jon you lie, you write amazing poems. anndd i love you for it. deerr. way more than emily :]
I would certainly NOT want to be in that position! Good imagery.
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