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War Sad Poems | Sad Poems About War

These War Sad poems are examples of Sad poems about War. These are the best examples of War Sad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Free verse | |

Crying In Whisper

In my country,
Seeing smoky sky
Is nothing,
But Killing kids kills
Me everyday, every minute
Every second,
No matter with
Thundering bullets
Or lightening rockets;
It is being our daily habit
No more choices:
To die or but to die
Silently without even a whispered Cry,
Or a small bit of a registered grave;
It is happening now just in my country!


Details | Couplet | |

Blinded by Right and Wrong

I stood on a hill and screamed for peace...
Lost in the noise were friends that teased...

A mask that hides what's wrong and right...
Too many stones thrown that blinded my sight...
 
Wolves that prowled with a sheeps face and a devils soul...
Crept slowly in the dark where the truth was never told...

My cape is wrinkled and torn and bloodied from the day...
A battle well fought where being right lost its way...

Then left with a heart with blood still there to drain...
No need to ask the question, I'd do it all over again...


I don't write stories, I don't write make believe... I write what's in Me....    Michael





Details | Narrative | |

Battle Scars

Don’t judge that kid with her arms all scarred
Don’t brand that kid as bad
You never would have survived 
If you had the life she had
So say a prayer and show you care
She’s paid more than her share of dues
Don’t put her down or say bad things
Until you’ve walked that mile in her shoes
Those who suffered in war earn respect
They are greeted like super stars
She came from a war you wouldn’t understand
On her arms, the battle scars
Her own home was the battle zone
The desperation, feeling all alone
A situation she felt no escape from
Then late at night the urges come
Innocence lost like a bad dream
No self respect, no self esteem
It is an ongoing battle to feel whole
You can see the beauty within her soul
Sometimes I pray for a Judgement day
You have no heart if you look away
Flashbacks come and the anger stirs
The guilt she carries isn’t hers
There is a need for justice long past due
A need for acceptance from me and you
With anger, despair and fear demanding
The child needs some understanding
In spite of all the tears she cried
There are still battle scars deep inside


Details | Narrative | |

Beyond the sign

Hello friend, Do you see that man on the corner by the street?
He is holding the cardboard saying "homeless and I need to eat." 
If you're not too busy, come with me on a journey back to 1969.
It will help you to look past his appearence and beyond his homemade sign.

This is the 1960's, where they thrived on the American Dream.
The women were real ladies, or at least in public thats what it seems.
Today is High School graduation, So much happiness is in the air,
But, These young men have recieved papers, and Uncle Sam expects them there.

Do you recognize the bone structure of this boy standing on our right?
He is the one from the future corner, he was Valedictorian tonight.
So well dressed, and raised up right, his sweetheart by his side.
He has no reason to be fearful of the draft, he is filled with American Pride.

Fast foward, Just a few weeks, to him and his young new wife,
Kissing so passionately, pressing pause on their future, and their life.
He is dropped down in the jungle, amist the sounds of live fire.
He sees injured men being lifted out, as the SGT's on the wire.

Just a young boy of 19, he is scared beyond his witts,
Yet, he completes every mission he is given, he never quits.
He holds the hands of friends, who was cut down in their prime.
Yes, this is the same man, the one you wouldn't give a dime.

He arrives back home, in the year of 1972.
His tour earned him a purple heart, he took bullets for you.
once at home, he is expecting affection from his lover,
but, he has been gone for so long she already found another.

So at 21 years old, this veteran is now a man,
He drinks his memories away, everynight if he can.
He gave an eye, and two of the best friends he has ever known.
He never was told "thank you", and he has nothing to call his own.

If you pay close attention to the newspapers of '72
you will see in the protest, they blamed the drafted soilders too.
so here is this man, young, and broken, yet, still not ashamed.
He proudly answered the call, when the draft listed his name.

Only a fellow Veteran, could even try to understand,
That there are no surviving Vets, a part of them died in Vietnam.
When they returned they expected welcome parties and smiles.
Instead they were placed in a new war, but, it was their uniform on trial.

If you still feel the same as you did before our walk.
Go on about your day, forget about our talk.
But, if you have decided, you can look beyond his sign.
Maybe understand his pain, and give our hero a dime.


Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 


Details | Free verse | |

Things Fall Apart

Adamant mindsets
In a modern setup,
Vibrant visions evaporates
To emptiness, nothingness and waywardness.
Leaving the people in stark darkness,
Leading to nowhere,
As penury is declared "king",
Hunger succeeds the throne
As blind leaders  hardened the 
Economy like bone.
Giving peanuts to the peasants
But gold for the wealthy,
Oh! what a chess game in the midst
Of blind spectators.....
Mothers swaying in tattered rags,
Struggling with drying breasts which 
Produces the hopeful milk of the skinny infants...
Children strolling with empty plates
Searching for who to wet their throats.
Fathers planting courage and assurance,
Hoping the land will be milky someday,
Yet the center is not holding
For heads are plenty but the brains are few...
Therefore turning weakening hearts
To marauding crooks,
Victimizing themselves,
Staining their whites,
Be litling their lives,
Insulting their hands
Making the land stink,
While Africa bears the smell,
To the detriment of her virtue. 
Our agricultural and peaceful 
"green white green", they've turned to 
A dark and bloody "red black red".
Now who leads who in this
Criminal war front, corrupt justice
And indecisive generation?
Things fall apart when truth step aside,
Evil takes the lead when black minds
Score the goal...
Things fall apart when the people can't merge.


Details | Couplet | |

One Toy Soldier

One Toy Soldier

Little toy soldiers are all put away
Training is over for this time of day.
Where do these little boys go now to play?
Away from their home to die in the fray.

Little toy weapons are no longer there
But boxed in attics by mothers with care--
Where keepsakes still hold a lock of his hair--
While rockets and missles challenge his fare.

Little toy bad guys and little toy good
Haze in the distance when misunderstood.
Where fall the lilies on long crates of wood
And each gave their all--as good soldiers should...

Little toy soldiers are coming back home...
Mothers are weeping, laments all alone
Where flags lie folded--the gift of Shalom...
As the long box is lowered...'neath the loam

One little toy soldier is placed on the top
Remembering All--so that None be Forgot.

   
deborah burch©                            
4/14/2012

  


Details | Rhyme | |

A Soldier's Letter

"My dear Hannah:  We're camped nigh a town called Gettysburg tonight.
I take pen in hand to write to you, my love, by the flickerin' candlelight.
From afar I hear the beat of Rebel drums preparin' fer battle on the 'morrow.
Oh, my darlin' Hannah!  I ain't never knowed such loneliness and sorrow!"

"How I long to be with you and the children 'round our family hearth.
Ya'all mean the world to me, more than anything else on God's earth!
I recall so many times biddin' a sad farewell at our humble cabin door,
And marchin' off with my home brigade as we faced the cruel war!"

"I'm a-thankin' ye fer the chicken and apple pie you sent last week.
I shared it with my friends - it brightened our day which elsewise was so bleak.
This evenin' I read from my tattered Bible the Twenty-third Psalm.
We shared it many times at our family altar - it gives me such great calm!"

"I 'spect to be comin' home to help bring in the crops later on this fall,
And sit 'round the board to enjoy a bountiful Thanksgivin' with ya'all!
So fatten up old Tom Turkey, make some dressin' and sweet pertaters,
A couple of yer famous punkin pies and serve some fresh termaters!"

"I reckon I'd better close this letter 'cause its a-gittin' purty late.
Pray fer me, Hannah!  I'll leave ever'thing in God's hands as to my fate!
Hug and kiss the children fer me tonight as you tuck them in their bed.
I'll see you soon, dear one. 'Til then, I remain your lovin' husband, Jed."

Alas, the Scythe of Death reaped Jed's soul upon that ghastly field of strife.
The hopes expressed in his poignant letter would ne'er be shared with his wife..
It was found in his tunic pocket as he was lowered in his hallowed grave,
As his comrades honored him for his service and the life he freely gave.

Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
(c) All Rights Reserved


Details | Senryu | |

Enemy at the Gates

sent to the slaughter
caught between levels of hell...
neither one he chose

he lay amidst death
destiny arrived on time
alive…it chose him
~*~

12/28/11
For "Senryu Movie Scene" Contest 
*7th Place


Details | Rhyme | |

The anomaly of irony.

Rolling through a bloody mess,
my master died alone no less.
His mercy was indeed a lie,
he said I lived but now will die.

His hand was swift with a mighty stroke,
within a thought my life was broke.
Oh how I lived, and he knew not,
but now I lay...my life to rot.

No foot, nor hand could move a limb,
Three days old and no sign of him.
And then he came at my wits end,
With strength alone I cant defend.

He lift me up and broke my jaw,
Just to laugh as I hit the floor.
He took a blade and made a fist,
stabbed his flesh, his vein, his wrist.

Now you're dead and now you're mine,
drink from me and you'll be fine.
I could not stand my masters site,
I killed him quick with my own bite.


Details | Rhyme | |

Plockton - Wester Ross

The greatest holiday gift I ever received  
Goes back so many, many years
Before my life became turmoiled
And before my tears for fears

I was a child like many out there
Torn, strewn and split of kin
Mother and father in differences
Confused at seven, wearing their same skin

For I was one of the lucky ones
To a Highland Estate I would go
It's on the west coast of Scotland
Where my holidays desired me so

Secretly I internally smiled
For a whisper of where I was heading
To live with a movie star hero
No longer my life was in dreading

We were picked up by a man so fine
His manners were an absolute joy
Regimental he was in his approach
To me, just a seven year old boy

We travelled through the village of Plockton
Crystal clear waters edged to it's shore
I knew from this very moment
Being here ebbed previous family sores

On entering his house I was in awe
Movie pictures came to my view
They were images of James Bond
At seven I was totally through

A voice called to me
Hey James! sit down and I'll tell you me
Still in circles in walking awe
This is what he told thee

My name is Patrick Dalzel Job
In the Second World War I served
But this recognition I bestow
Humbles me to it's deserve

This honour that's been given
Was blessed by a colleague in war
What desired Ian Fleming to be so striven
Possibly, what we were fighting for

We served on the same destroyer
Fighting to make the future free
His tribute, in his novels I became
James Bond, it's incredibly me





Not many seven year olds have stayed with James Bond.
This seven year old Scot's boy has, maybe I learnt?
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Patrick_Dalzel-Job


Details | Rhyme | |

Dead horizon

It was raining with pain from above
and dews of blood are seeping,
on the windows, houses and asphalt
putting out the fire of life feeling.

from the branches of the oaks from the hill
on a string dead cold bodies are hanging,
down are staying the trails of hope
and in the sky,the last sunset is shining.

and the burned out trees, full of ashes,
are waving in the cold wind alone,
they reopen the door for a moment
and let the soul to go home...

all that is left now is empty,
on the river,the willow is dying,
on the streets the life dead lost feeling
and on the grass the dews of blood crying.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Kilted Warrior

He stands proud and strong, this kilted warrior
head held high against the unending pain
of a heart born out of sadness
for the loss of those who came before him
and thoughts of those who would
continue on when he himself was no more.
Proud men one and all
vows made, till surrendered in death
to defend that which
was their birthright, the very land
upon which he now stood.
The call to battle though long since silenced
came from within his very heart and soul
blood of the ancient ones raged in his veins
his sword by his side...shield upon his back
he stood ready to charge into battle
to do what was expected of him since birth
to fight as those before him fought
without fear, but with a strength
only a battle hardened warrior
knew and understood.


Details | Rhyme | |

My mother, my earth.

Into the light I see,
with rays in clouds and warmth in me.
Brittle is the air around,
no voice is there, nor sweeter sound.

Within my scars and broken back,
there are my kin, there love I lack.
The oceans turn, therefore I weep,
Is it truly my tears to keep?

Now the mountains begin to fall,
like sand and dust to death they call.
I hear my children bleed and cry,
there bellies thirst and almost dry.

Some will seat and eat there fill,
"lets help them now, so now we will!
His mother would find pride within,
a pretty thing this life of sin.

Alas, my days are almost through,
my breath, my flesh and heart is too.
Let this be my final song,
for war alone is for the strong.

Into the night I see,
is there still love left for me?


Details | Rhyme | |

War in the Street


War
in the street
faces 
marred by defeat
crying, fighting
kicking, biting

where is the truth they’re refusing?
can’t you see humanity is losing?

sapphires 
seeking retribution
victims 
of senseless persecution
amnesty 
road blocked by political futility
stubborn leaders
breeding this brutality

martyrs 
paving ways brave and proud
but signs say, ”NO PROTESTING ALLOWED!"
people 
risking their lives
to benefit future generations
placing themselves on shelves
for the sake of their children's salvation

for now, they fall
bludgeoned in defeat 
with hopes of a brighter tomorrow
for this bloodshed today in the street

~JSLambert

© 2011 JSLambert


Details | Verse | |

The World Blasts Everyday

The world blasts in one nook or the other everyday.
It writhes amidst the stink of the burnt emotions.
Lullabies are mutilated in the roar of A.K.47.
A flock of  black birds hovers in the sky.
Waif dogs and vultures carve the sculptures
On the scattered fragments of the innocence.
Infants fumble for the nipples among the debris.
Forlorn whimpering of the newest widow  
Rises up with the smoke. Family men 
Step in to the death wagons with bleeding thoughts.
White doves shudder to sit on the roof of the worship.
A hundred revenge kids are born in each blast.
All ‘isms’ end in ‘revegisms’. Funeral of the peace
Is celebrated in the clattering of the weapons.
As the emotions lose the buttress of sense and reason,
The world blasts, then it bounces back.


(Pendle War Poetry,U K has selected and published this poem in the book,'Selected Poems 2012')


FABIYAS M V


Details | Lyric | |

This is about you

When you have downfall on your mind chaos is all a mind can find, its time to change all the things you had held so deep inside, they cause rage, your trapped in while your caught up in the cage of life an easy life with out strife, no more pain or struggle inside a bubble and you want to make it burst, but first things first you know the times that come will be the worst, because its change you want, and you will taunt the ones who set the curse. They say if you want to change a little then its your choice, but if you want to change a lot they must first hear your voice, loud enough for all to hear, listen and all of the problems soon disappear, just know that the world can be a  bleak one and people dont always listen so you cannot only speak once, so when the end is near you can look back at the goodtimes throughout all the years think about all the times and cheer, and thank god you lived this long and your still here. Be remembered  only for  the words you spoke, for you do not want to be invisioned inside a cloud of smoke, watch as they listen when you start to feel the choke on the thoughts about your life,a bad life,  a black life, envoloped in fear you were hoping that the man would hear, and maybe take a listen, to diamonds in your mind as you watch them glisten. finally move to a position, and  open your ears and let your mind be clear, and hear the wisdom spoken from the person on the otherside of the mirror, society sobriety with out a clue just sit and ponder at the deepest thoughts that are revealed in you...


Details | Verse | |

Injustice

He prepares for a carefree day,
for jovial conversations,
for cheerful smiles and lively faces.
He’s a young boy. Just like me.
My mind swells with ceaseless terror.
 I plead in my prayers
that our lives shall prolong further than this day.
I prepare for the grand attack.

He ambles through the village.
Laughter escapes the vivid frames 
of him and his companions.
Not an ache in his limbs.
Not a burden in his heart.
I move anxiously ahead.
My feet without ease omit swarms of bodies.
Some still emit shallow breaths.
Inadequate sounds escape their mouths
and their eyes writhe.

For him, time passes swiftly 
and a late train is the crisis of the day.
In that day, not a thought does he spare
for his fellow human beings.
For our sacrifice he doesn’t care.

As for me, time stays almost still.
I’m imprisoned in a time warp of pain.
My best friend clings off the un-cut wire
and blazing bullets glide through
the torn flesh of his chest.

He lies in his bed.
Wrapped around him a soft blanket,
under his head a warm pillow.
He’s a young boy. Just like me.

But only the moist earth serves me as a cushion, 
and only the bodies of my lifeless friends
serve me as heat.
I lie in a shell-hole; I lie in my grave. 



Details | Ballad | |

Martyr for the Unorthodox word

If I had over 10,000 dreams You'd be the only thing my mind could see Judgment couldn't be real Succumbing to the fear of this cold life Find a way to break through The self-destruction of wordly delusions Don't tell me I've lived so long in a lovely illusion Break me down until we find a Nirvanic state Then bring me a savior from transgressions An atoning sacrifice Send down to me a messenger for me to submit to Bring me the truth to break through The delusion Bring me the messenger to explain it all And let me leave behind Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Without a will to fight But I have the Means to be free I'll try to go with the word I believe But so many stones to be thrown Stakes to burn, limbs to break Faces to hate, scorns to taste Will I have the will to die Despite all of the tears no one will cry Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Broke my will Safetefied my soul Martyr for the Unorthodox word Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Without a will to fight But I have the Means to be free I'll try to go with the word I believe But so many stones to be thrown Stakes to burn, limbs to break Faces to hate, scorns to taste Will I have the will to die Despite all of the tears no one will cry Sorrow's caressing the earth The caliphate stole my heart Broke my will Safetefied my soul Martyr for the Unorthodox word


Details | Free verse | |

Love thy brother.

Brothers killing brothers......a field of blood
sisters slaying sisters.......instead of bearing sons.
mothers ,daughters..fathers, sons
all dead and gone, kindred spirits slaughtered one by one
by the hand of those each should love. 
I wonder if at the last moment they had second thoughts
Is this the way to go ..isn't there a better way?
Perhaps dialogue or patience would have been better
Less lives could have been  lost ..less regrets to bear.....more hearts could have 
been won.
Yet the war continues unabated..send in more troops is what we say.
 Isn't there another way?
 Too many orphans left.. ..uncared for and grieving
too many tears have been shed.... hearts harden.
Prisoners of war......wounded and shell shocked veterans....... physically 
handicapped....mentally deranged....a terrible plight
both sides share the same fate....pain and sadness is all that's  left
no one wins yet the war never ends.
Love's  now a thing of the past
only anger and hatred remain 
 When, oh when will Peace prevail.


Details | I do not know? | |

Viet-Nam Senceless War

There was a war sometime ago where mem were ordered young and old,
  to fight the battle keep us safe but for them no escape.
The war went on and the battle raged soldiers dieing everyday,
 so many men and boys too side by side fought for me and you.
Viet-Nam what can I say,War of War still killing today.
Agent Orange,Flash Backs too,
 many deceases worst than any flu.
One by one they did go for Uncle Sam made it so,
 fighting a war they knew not why just to stand shoot and die.
Marching,fighting days on end never knowing if it would end,
 or if they would return to the country where they were born.
For the ones who didn't die they were'nt even reconized,
 no not one would they meet or even give them an honorary seat.
As for me I have to say they should not have been treated that way.
A Hero's welcome they deserved and crowds of people on every curb,
  but instead they fought,died and we didn't as much as say Good-Bye!
                                                                     Signed;
                                                                       A Guilty One


Details | Ode | |

Love is a Sacrifice

You have my soul, but you have your fate Whatever your words, I’m willing to take You have my word; I’ll give you my breath It’s like a chain that would never be break You are my love with all my heart, I’ll fight for you with all my might. And in the way, you admire your goals, You hold my hands, but not so close. As you go to your chosen path, I’ll accept the fact that we will be apart. In the dark side, I leave behind Within my faith, that you’ll arise Please don’t look back, coz I’m fighting still I’m hurting so much! Don’t want to have you near I accept my fate for what it does, I’m bleeding so much, do you know for whom it was? You reach your goals, as you want to have, Would you remind the man that gave what he had? As you reach the stars, and be the one Be a sun that shines its own. After the rain, the rainbow comes, Like dark in the moon, when the light flash A glimpse from you at least a short For then I knew my pain is worth.


Details | Free verse | |

Agree to Disagree

                                               
                                               Mankind's greatest
                                                 accomplishment...
                                                       
                                                      

                                                      is death.


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

- Blood - Tears - Death -


                                      I heard angels singing about peace
                                     Silence in this room only a dim light
                                   Is it just a dream of freedom and peace
                                   Breaking down the lie build up the truth
                                     I'm in doubt .... do I hear angel song
                                  Give me an answer, take away my doubt
                                  Feeling a little turbulence and bit scared
                             The song is mighty they are singing about peace
                                    Silence comes and the dim light is gone
                                 There is too much injustice, bombs and war
                                       I feel so tired, small and ashamed
                                       You are like me and I am like you
                                       I hear no angels singing any more
                                         Only Blood, Tears and Death






 * Boston bombing in April 2013

20.04.2013
A-L  Andresen :)