So um, this is something I did at school ages ago. I'm sorry- I keep using loads of metaphors that I'm not sure if people actually get. So you're gonna have to really read between the lines... I think it's another war poem/thing...
Art everywhere.
Art in the eyes of the children as they close their eyes and look up at the sun to see a six-pointed yellow star pulsating upon their eyelids.
Art in the patterns the wind makes in the layers of dust blanketing the beautifully arranged rubble.
Art in the blinding firework display of the night sky; the children gazing, their eyes wide open with... (must be) wonder.
All accompanied, of course, by the music - the...sweet?.. never ending music that goes hand in hand with the art- the fighter jets playing pizzicato.
Art in the red tie-dyed uniforms.
Art in the intricate blue prints.
Art in the day
and art in the night.
Art in the flawlessly trimmed toothbrush moustaches.
Ugh. Everything I do turns into yet another shitty war poem and I'm sorry. I'll try to actually do something else next time.
YOU ARE READING
Playing Guns [ Poetry ]
PoetryThree war poems (...I think) And mabey some others... Read them and find your own explanation because I'm not even sure what some of them are about... (the tags are just some of my thoughts but you might think differently)
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