The Friends in Our Lives


United States
41° 35' 59.9316" N, 93° 40' 30.0036" W

The bomb shells light the air in a fiery rain;

smoke bellows through the land. 

The sound of screams and gunshots fade,

but not 'til my brothers go away; 

we run in unison into the midst of chaos

and can only pray to make it out sane.


As we reach the crest of the hill all we see,

the bodies of our families entwined like a sea.

No one to ever know their stories such  as

a gust of wind running through the trees.


They were my brothers;

each a part of me and I they.

Why must we fight for our lives?

All I feel is pain,

As the bomb shells light the air in a fiery rain.

This poem is about: 
Our world
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 



I wrote this poem as a way of comparing the way we start with friends and get really attached in the beginning of high school and by the end of the tremendous journey less than a quarter remain. Pain is felt when they leave but all you must do is continue.

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