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Edited on Fri Oct-29-04 09:24 PM by luvamericahatebush
Today, as I was bored stiff by watching a horrible movie in the library, I found the Langston Hughes book of poems. I copied quite a few and put my mind to work, then I found this jewel. Hey, a middle schooler can see the beauty in this. Don't call us stupid.
You may not see my reason for putting it on here, but if you read and think about the events of the world, you may.
Poem for a Dead Soldier.
Ice cold passion, And bitter death, Adorned the bed, Of youth and death. Youth, the young soldier, Who went to the wars, And embraced white death, The vilest of whores.
Now we spread roses, Over your tomb, We who sent you, To your doom. Now we make soft speeches, And sob soft cries, And throw soft flowers, And utter soft lies.
We would mould you in metal, And carve you in stone, Not daring to make a statue, Of your dead flesh and bone. Not daring to mention, The bitter breath, Not the ice-cold passion, Of your love night with Death.
We make soft speeches, We sob soft cries, We throw soft flowers, And utter soft lies, And you who were young, When you went to the wars, Have lost your youth now, With the vilest of whores.
Miniluvamericahatebush
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