Alicia's Poetry Page
Freedom is costly with a never ending debt,
Nails and a cross were the first payments made.
Still war rages on,
As each soldiers soul flies away,
For he has given his life in freedom's name.
Remember his name and the price he paid,
To keep the "Eagle" in flight,
And our colors bright.
Prison
What do you see when you think of a prison?
Barbed wire fences,
Steel bars and chains,
Or tiny cramped up spaces,
With no where to run to>
The prison I see physically contains none of these things.
It is a prison of the soul.
You can see the bars when you look into my eyes,
If you look close enough,
You might catch a glimpse of me.
I am in the very back,
Where it is dark, and I am alone.
I am not sure why I am here,
I really want to leave.
I don't know how to break these chains,
I don't know how to be free.
This world has made me a prisoner,
A prisoner of the soul. In a jungle all alone,
Not knowing where to go,
You took me by the hand,
And helped to get me home.
Gun fire, de*th,
The smell of burning flesh.
The wails of men, young and old,
As their heartbeat begins to slow.
Children who have just learned to walk,
enter the tent,
Then it explodes.
The smell, sounds, and visions of war,
Are all that I have left of you,
Because when I turned around,
You had already taken you last breath.
Your de*th hasn't been in vain,
If I can return to the jungle,
And bring some lost soul out of the cain.
