Bang poland stories

the_isitari Community member
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
A free verse poem on wars, and their effect on children.


I sat in the hall, My toy gun was with me. It was dark outside, Even though it wasn't night. The sounds, the shrieks, The crying, the wailing. The laughing, the jeering, The shouting, the barking. All came together to form, a morose harmony. My mother looked at me, Her eyes dazed and blank.

My brother was not visible, He had drowned in his room. The roof had given way, Only for the rain to come in. I looked outside the window, Only to see rubble and pain. A man was running, He was not one of them. Was he crying? I don't know, He was shot down anyway. I sat still, under the table, My gun in my hand.

Hiding behind, What was my father's body. They had not found me yet, I was sure of that. There were twenty of them, With big rumbling vehicles. I didn't know what they were called, But I did know what happened when they went bang. I didn't cry, I was too shocked, My gun was in my hand.

Every now and then I would try to stand up, Only to sit down in fear, Lest I be caught and shot. But it was in my fate to die, Because a soldier had now seen me. He parted from his group, His pistol in his hand. He came to me, He looked behind. Pointed his pistol at me, And smiled.

I stood up, my head held high, And pointed my gun at him. His smile faltered, he didn't lower his arm, He looked behind again. And then at me, He lowered his gun, I didn't lower mine. He gave me a parcel, I didn't accept it. He left the place, With what appeared to be tears in his eyes,

I stood still, With all my might. I opened the parcel, And found food inside. I ate it with delight. I saw the group leave, The rumbling vehicles too. I kept my gun in my pocket, As if it was real. I looked above at the stars, They appeared different tonight.

I looked at my dog, lying dead at the door. I went to him, And gave him some of the food. I broke down when he refused to eat, only to hear the dreaded bang, I looked at the window, And saw something that my mother might have told me some day, Was it a shooting star?

If it was, Then I wished to have my family back, And that's the last thing I remember.

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