Makeshift

The camps are crying with horrific screams;
They are made by men in uniformed communism.
A collective mass of beautiful people--
They won't make it through the night.

Makeshift housing--it's only temporary:
You didn't do anything wrong,they're morbid.
The sky is dark with death, with pain--
They won't see another sun, another moon.

Marching men with solid guns;
A threat to children who just want play.
They cry from bruises and blackened eyes--
They won't make it to see thirteen.

Reviews

[An owl on the moon]

So powerful and moving, expressing with vivid words the deepest horrors of mankind... Your work is brilliant...

Craig

[*~Imperfectly Me~*]

This a very touching poem! I like how you captured the horror that it was.... Great job!

[Sarah]

I really liked the final lines of each stanza and how they all started with "they won't make it" or "they won't see" that was very creative. This poem captured the horror of war without going overboard with the gruesome description - great job with this!