Roses

Roses are red
Violets are food
I ate the squirrel raw
Cause I was in the mood

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Cries of Terror in the Street

Cries of terror in the street
No one protected

Death is destruction
Of the hopes in life
All but this

Cries of terror in the street
One protected it

Walls falling
Wailing
Wars end
With blood trailing

Thus

Cries of terror in the street
Hero protected it

Summer Heat

Summer heat upon my chest
As the days march like waves
On through time like a bow
Nest

Jingles run through the town
Echoes of a joy long gone-
Now only found in the pools of children
Lasting not from season-
But from play

Summer heat upon my head
As humid times make days
On we march to sound
Of the dead