War, oh war,
why are we fighting?
Is it because it is entertaining,
or is it because we just feel like it?
War, oh war
why are we fighting?
Is it a bug we always catch
or is it just because we are mean?
War, oh war,
why are we fighting?
Travelling through this spaciousness,
Of airy open space,
The sparking amber gunshots,
That streak across my face.
The flaming tawny sunset,
Slowly begins to fade,
We fire our deadly killers,
Until the night gives us shade
I clasp my lucky sovereign,
Until it’s enriched with sweat,
And sob my throbbing heart out,
’til the next raging day of fret
This is a prayer,
And this type is scarce.
To pray for soldiers in the war.
I will always remember those in the war.
On Remembrance Day,
We have fun and play,
We will always shout at people about
But we still will remember the soldiers, even today.
I can wear a poppy,
To show that I care.
For all the dead soldiers,
Imagine you were there?
All through the day,
And all through the night,
The soldiers were doing,
What they felt was right.
They fight for their nation,
Also for land.
When they feel like it
They start a marching band!
When they finally descend,
From the hospital ward,
They have a crutch
Or the wound of a sword.
war war, why war
can’t it be the opposite, peace?
with birds tweeting
It’s not like I’m saying football is war
with saying the rhymes of the players name
It’s bad with the shooting of cannons
that’s war
when people are evacuating homes
for years and years on
come on, live in peace
we should be voting!!!!
My mom is burning into pieces, struggling.
My step father is burning into pieces, trying to find a job.
My family is a messed up family, burning into pieces, struggling.
This is my messed family, burning into pieces, struggling.
BURNING INTO PIECES, STRUGGLING
The battle is on,
This should be fun,
Come on everyone,
Fight, fight, fight!
We will battle until the night,
We are the winners,
and not the sinners!
We won, we won,
Come on everyone!
He stood on the hill,
drew an arrow and placed it on his bow,
killed an enemy.
“Huh, no arrows left.”
He dropped the bow,
he drew his sword, Bastrell,
more opponents killed.
He breathed a sign of relief,
no more opponents.
My friend Pokes is a fighter with strength.
She is a great leader and keeps us all in check.
Sometimes, though, she gets in a bad mood.
Then we stand clear or we’ll end up on the moon.
Her wrath is deadly and kills on sight.
Her punches send us all in flight.
On the moon and past the stars.
She is the toughest girl by far.
By day she games, by night she kills.
So you better run for the hills.
One day though.
Someone didn’t know better.
Called her a hat and went into the nether.
He fought and he died.
All the creatures stole his life.
Now his blood feeds the roses in Hell.
The moral of this story is to not pick fights.
Or Pokes will come and get you.
And you’ll burn to death.
In the alleyways of doom
You can sometimes hear a boom
Every day we’re frightened
But on Christmas Day it brightened
A football match was played
The feeling of the Germans was swayed
Even when we were called up to defend
We hoped the war would end
Every time we fired
The German team was becoming tired
This team joined us; Russia
Each one of us was a crusher
In the allyways of doom
You can sometimes hear a boom
5 soldiers,
1 final charge,
a gun fired,
1 man dead,
a machine gun,
3 more soldiers left,
I surrender,
it’s over.