All Quiet on the Western Front
The dead lay with their faces buried in the ashy sand
Metal shards spray across the fields and tear away young life
Soldiers are wasted like disposable tissues
High hopes and dreams in the youth parish
The soldiers only have one real hope: the end of the war
But if they do make it through it still means nothing.
The happy places of that past can never come back.
Children face other children upon this cruel battlefield
'I kill you or you kill me' is the only thing that exists between them
Honor and shame. For the soldiers in this war they have no meaning.
Fear is the only motivation
And these millions who lost their being in the war,
It is all on the chests of the greedy leaders and the evil men who exalt hate instead of love.
Someday, maybe, in the heaven above, it will be justified by the questionable almighty.
And the soldiers that now lay in the fields of the front may rest in peace.
After all, what is death to a man who has seen it a thousand times over?
I love to write stories, but I don't make a good poet. I made three attempts at this poem and was ashamed the first two
times. I'm not exactly proud of this last one but it is a definite improvement over the first two. I think I did better because
I wrote free style without particularly thinking about it-letting my thoughts flow out while listening to some 'inspiring'
music. It kind of helped me focus on the main theme of All Quiet on the Western Front: The effects of the war on the minds
of all the young soldiers that fought in World War I.