wild dogs (Remove filter)
MEAL TIME
my mother sez im mad, for seeing whats in this poem. i wish all of the wars would stop. simple...
Meal Time
An army squad walked down the road. It could have been any road with any army in any war. The men quietly grumbled about sore feet, about the light rain and grey sky, about missing a meal. Above all they complained about missing home and their sweethearts. But a grumbling so...
Saturday 1st June 2013 3:31 pm
Recent Comments
Tim Higbee on Grandfather
3 minutes ago
TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
1 hour ago
R A Porter on Sashaying to Byzantium
3 hours ago
Ray Miller on Dominoes
7 hours ago
Red Brick Keshner on Beneath the Armour: Reaching for True Strength
7 hours ago
Reggie's Ghost on Dominoes
8 hours ago
Uilleam Ó Ceallaigh on Early winter's day
8 hours ago
John Coopey on IT AIN'T ME, BABE
8 hours ago
John Marks on Early winter's day
8 hours ago
TobaniNataiella on She Says Goodbye
8 hours ago