imported_Eowyn
01-18-2005, 04:10 PM
Well, until now I have been fairly intimidated by the amazing poetry et cetera I've seen in this forum - way out of my league! I very rarely write poetry, though I love it, because I'm no good at it. But last year we read a fantastic book in English ("Brother in the Land" by Robert Swindells) and were asked to write an epilogue.
I wrote some prose, but most of my work was a poem - see below!
(This may make little sense if you have not read the book, but those who have will understand. Basically, the story is set during a nuclear holocaust. First, the principle character's mother is killed, but he still has his brother and father. Then his father is murdered in front of him, but he still has his little brother. Finally, his brother dies of radiation sickness, but he is left with the girl he has fallen for. All he has left is love.)
When thunder bombed down from the sky,
And dreams were turned to nightmares,
You held onto a grain of hope,
Your family would be there.
When gunfire clashed into Dad’s chest,
And bullets whipped through your hair,
You clung onto that grain of hope,
Your brother would be there.
When brother lay beneath the ground,
And all friends ceased to care,
You and all Earth clung onto some hope,
Love was always there.
I know it's not great, but I was 13 when I wrote it, and it wasn't on a subject I chose. Be nice!
I wrote some prose, but most of my work was a poem - see below!
(This may make little sense if you have not read the book, but those who have will understand. Basically, the story is set during a nuclear holocaust. First, the principle character's mother is killed, but he still has his brother and father. Then his father is murdered in front of him, but he still has his little brother. Finally, his brother dies of radiation sickness, but he is left with the girl he has fallen for. All he has left is love.)
When thunder bombed down from the sky,
And dreams were turned to nightmares,
You held onto a grain of hope,
Your family would be there.
When gunfire clashed into Dad’s chest,
And bullets whipped through your hair,
You clung onto that grain of hope,
Your brother would be there.
When brother lay beneath the ground,
And all friends ceased to care,
You and all Earth clung onto some hope,
Love was always there.
I know it's not great, but I was 13 when I wrote it, and it wasn't on a subject I chose. Be nice!