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Rhys Owen Poem
100 years ago a war began,
A war that severely scared man.
Bullets flew, bombs exploded,
Lives were lost and morals eroded.
100 years ago a war continued,
Causing deaths to increase by a multitude.
Caught in a crossfire deep in a trench,
Disease ridden and with a horrible stench.
100 years ago a war ended,
Yet there were many wrongs never amended.
Of families waiting for the loved one they yearn,
Waiting for the ones that never return.
At this very moment I lie on a bed,
Free from tyranny and bloodshed.
My heart pulsing with gratitude of what I know,
Of the sacrifices made 100 years ago.
Copyright © Rhys Owen | Year Posted 2015
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Rhys Owen Poem
Poem written: 13th of July 2013
Tsunami
Wall of water,
As high as the clouds,
An uncontrollable force,
Destroying crops and buildings.
Poseidon’s fist,
Neptune’s rage,
Hades’ dream,
Demeter’s nightmare.
Sweeping through cities,
Leaving a path of destruction,
Howling and smashing,
Burying with rubble.
This is powerful,
This is violent,
This is life shattering......
This is a Tsunami.
Copyright © Rhys Owen | Year Posted 2015
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Rhys Owen Poem
Brotherless Man Perspective:
The world has ended.
Joel, my brother is no more.
Those startling blue eyes that will never pierce me again,
That wry smile that warmed my heart so many times,
Gone. Forever.
Feeling numb, replaying the moment,
The policemen delivering a heavy knock,
The accusations,
Joel attempting to escape,
And the cold, steel bullet that destroyed a piece of my heart.
Absence of denial,
Streams of liquid empty down hollowed cheeks; a raging waterfall.
Policeman Perspective:
Standing at the scene of the shooting,
I recoil from the pitiful wreck before me,
Sobbing on the dull, grey pavement; inconsolable.
The sight of his misery threatens to shatter my heart into a million pieces,
But I take comfort in knowing that justice was served.
One less criminal on the loose.
Copyright © Rhys Owen | Year Posted 2015
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Rhys Owen Poem
Look outside and see the trees,
Fluttering like bird's wings in the breeze,
Things won't be like this in a century or two,
If polluting is what we do.
Seize the night, seize the day
Things won't always be this way.
Dense forest, towering trees,
Steep mountains, vast seas.
All of this beauty gone and more,
Mankind has a lot to answer for.
The more we decide to desecrate our land,
The more we decide to suffer by our own hand.
And when we come to the time when it's too late to care,
When all of our precious Earth has been stripped bare.
We will look back at this time of utter nonchalance
And we will see selfish fools who failed to muster a response,
To the greatest crisis of our age,
The final crisis, the final page.
Copyright © Rhys Owen | Year Posted 2016
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