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Nastassia Peterie Poem
"A war with no Heroes."
Its was about becoming a unit
through it we became friends.
Its about those 4 year commitments
and seeing it to the end.
Its about facing your fears
not just facing the enemy.
To be strong in our colors
wasn't just about vanity.
Its about the memories we made
and the laughs we all share.
We never thought it was a game
no ones going to die here.
We were there for a reason
we held our weapon with pride
and the orders you question
were made to keep us alive.
It was never about,
who's playing our current president.
Why do they ignore us
and think of only the government?
Who sitting at home
safe in their polished desks,
do you really think they could last
through one week of this?
And those peace speaking liberals
who greet us like the plague,
pushing their poster in our faces
like they wished we were dead.
And the blood hungry media
we're all used to your game,
we say we're proud of this war
and you just push us away.
Your not looking for heroes
but for something much better,
like someone who fights wars
to get his name in the paper.
And to all those who think
that no war is justified,
what world do you live in?
Your idiocy is homicide.
The loss of 3,000 souls
and the grief of their family.
Should we not have fought back
because you think wars are to messy?
And wouldn't they try again
with not consequences to fear.
How long till it happens
every couple of months to a year.
What will the next target be
and how many more must die.
Who's spouse will be hostage
who's children will be under fire.
You say we were to aggressive?
Wake up, life just not fair.
They made the choice to mess with us,
the outcome should have been clear.
Someone in our history said,
"Speak softly and carry a bit stick."
And when they chose not to listen
thats when you give it to them quick.
Don't sugar coat it with apologizes
let me tell you my 'friend'
you try to recreate 9-11,
and this will happen again.
Copyright © Nastassia Peterie | Year Posted 2009
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Nastassia Peterie Poem
Forever and ever
the boy would live
a ghost who could never
himself forgive,
that day playing by the pool
he drowned
his small pale white body
his sister found.
His mother and father
screamed and cried
for their little angel
had so tragically died,
on his sixteen year old sister
was laid all the blame
now she torments herself
have the parents no shame.
But her pain he couldn’t
take away
and she grew paler
every day,
He tried to reach her
but he couldn’t
she started to do things
he knew she shouldn’t.
He tried to stop
her bleeding wrists
but the blood just flowed
through his small fists,
and every time
she cut herself
the little ghost boy
only blamed him self.
Eight years old
the day he died
his whole life he never
would have made her cry,
its all his fault that
her life was in flames
because no one else
would take the blame.
But he could do nothing
to make her life better
so with her blood
he wrote out a letter,
“I love you,” he wrote
on the wall
“It was never your fault
after all.”
The confused ghost boy
reached her too late
and the little ghost boy
transformed with hate,
around her dying body he flew
a hideous master piece he drew.
A picture of the family
they once were
And one last message,
“Does no one care about her?”
To take her soul
The demons arrived
“Take mine not hers,”
The little boy cried.
With a glint in his eye
The demon agreed,
To the gates of heaven,
The girls soul was freed.
But the boy the demons
Did not take,
He roams the world
Eyes cold with hate.
But sometimes you
might feel his cold hand,
he tells you your pain
he understands.
And every girl
that cuts her wrists,
reminds him painfully
of his older sis.
Copyright © Nastassia Peterie | Year Posted 2009
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Nastassia Peterie Poem
Battle with Fate
Do you really think,
that you have what it takes
there is no room for small mistakes.
Can't you see I'm still ten moves ahead,
so go ahead and panic, cause your dead.
Like I would panic,
I'll just ignore your voice
this is still my life, I have a choice.
I'm no actor to your script,
there are no strings to make this puppet trip.
Fool face reality,
try looking at your last move
if you could go back, what would you prove?
There goes that loved one and your career,
just face it you have no power here.
Still I wont give in,
my heart will heal, I'll get another chance,
there's more to life then working and romance.
I'll do the best with what I have
the soul finds hope even when its sad.
Wake up dreaming child,
Scream and kick as much as you like,
the fallen pieces prove the fact I'm right.
No mater how clever the move you make,
in the end, even that soul of yours will break.
Nothings impossible,
miracles happen every day,
all I need do is have a little faith and pray.
That heaven will guide me as I live,
I'll learn to show compassion and forgive.
It's getting boring now,
religion is the desperate move of man,
praying to a god that won't listen.
I have you cornered, its to late,
the game is over, its checkmate.
Copyright © Nastassia Peterie | Year Posted 2009
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