Poetry

AJ Ryan


older other poems newer

18 january 2012

Like Toy Soldiers

You have some sort of gun
In your hands all the time.
You're always together as one,
Usually in a straight line.

The colours that you wear
Symbolise the filth
That makes your chats heat up like flairs,
Showing no remorse or guilt.

You believe everyone else are bowling pins,
Think you can knock them down without vain.
But you're as thick as your skin,
Don't have a brain.

You play your stupid game,
Shoot at each other's side.
Why would you bother going through this pain?
An answer's never been supplied.

For you, the days will never get older.
Because you gangsters will fall quick,
Like toy soldiers.






Report this item

 


Terms of use | Privacy policy

Copyright © 2010 truml.com, by using this service you accept terms of use.


You have to be logged in to use this feature. please register

Ta strona używa plików cookie w celu usprawnienia i ułatwienia dostępu do serwisu oraz prowadzenia danych statystycznych. Dalsze korzystanie z tej witryny oznacza akceptację tego stanu rzeczy.    Polityka Prywatności   
ROZUMIEM
1