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night
April 25, 2011
An icy wind was blowing violent.
Faster you flea-ridden dogs.
We were no longer marching, we were running.
The night was pitch black.
I was putting one foot in front of the other.
Don’t stop, don’t think, run.
My stomach ach’s.
Wait a little.
Soon we will come to a halt.
We run like this to the end.
I cant go on.
I soon forget.
My foot is aching.
I shivered with every step.
Just a few more meters and it will all be over.
© Lena K., Marblehead, MA
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This article has 2 comments.
Brokenness_is_Beautiful SILVER said...
on Dec. 12 2011 at 12:25 pm
this is really good. The only thing I see is it should be violently in the first line. It is a little sloww in the beggining and I am noe sure what it is about....bu it is good!
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