A Poem by tarasov

a short poem I wrote after learning about World War 1 in History class.


Hand carried dea at 300 rounds a

minute. OH the "progress" of the

20th century.


Dug trench warfare a home

more like prison go 'over the top'

to your death.


A mustard yellow gas, that will

eat you alive. Don't breath, don't

look stand downwind.


A horror of war the world could

not yet imagen the first war we

now view in PG-13 images.


A continent filled with memorials and

list of name (the graduating class of 1914)

a count that staggers and confounds the mind.


What really is the cost of war? what

really is the meaning of peace when we

count progress on how easily we carry death.


Pride set on how quickly we spew bullets

into the bodies of others loved ones...

Nationalism at its best.

© 2011 tarasov

My Review

Would you like to review this Poem?
Login | Register


A good take at WWI...I had a couple bumps in the road reading this write...but I manage to get to the end of this verse...

Posted 7 Years Ago

Request Read Request
Add to Library My Library
Subscribe Subscribe


1 Review
Added on April 18, 2011
Last Updated on April 18, 2011



I write poetry and dabble in short stories. I'm 17 and have been writing for as long as i can remember :D i live in a small town in the U.S. i love ART and music; Drama and theater. mostly i love expr.. more..

Boris can fly Boris can fly

A Story by tarasov