William Sinclair Manson

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My-Poetry / Writings · 1 May 2017

My Poetry. Dangerous acts.

The atmosphere intense
you need eyes at the back of your head,
take your eyes off the ball
And you are sure to be dead.

Women’s covered faces
expressionless and cold
tears running from their eyes
Females young and old.
Terror covers the streets
young men on rusted bikes
not knowing who to trust
Dodging all the spikes..
Bombs going off in faraway streets
screams can be heard for miles
camouflaged by smoky fields
Bodies lying in piles.
Our unit sheltering from terrorists
everyone is always on edge
a man grasps on a towering building
Then falls quickly from the ledge.
Fires set everywhere, smoke is thick
a place that never sees the light
touring for many Years
Daily you have to fight.
Hospitals are full of wounded people
medicine is desperately low
doctors covered in blood and sinew
Nurses running to and fro.
Bodies piled up ready to burn
It’s a nightmare will anyone waken?
Children wounded as young as five
Scared, tired, forsaken..
The fight for freedom goes on
and always the innocent suffer
armies will always give chase
and be used when they need a buffer. 

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