All hope has been lost, as war closes in.
The line between good and bad has been shaven down thin.
We used to not worry, we used to not care,
But the drones of distant warplanes now give us a scare.
Safe as we are now, knowing that soon we won’t be,
There are warplanes above us, I see not one, two, but three
Soaring past our rooftops, leaving us scared to death,
The reality of it all is a sharp sword unsheathed.
I look out my window and see more flying past,
I crouch down, afraid, and pray I’ll be last.
Trembling and quivering, I next hear a BOOM
As the house next to ours is raided, shaking my room.
My family is downstairs! What can I do?
I leap down the stairs, scared like them too.
We huddle in a corner, not wanting to be apart.
I nervously scan the room, trying to calm my poor heart.
Minutes like hours, like days, like weeks, pass slowly like a year,
But there’s nothing we can do to hide our ever-growing fear.
Planting its feet inside of us is none other than fate,
Prompting us to hope and to pray it’s never too late.
I remain indoors, too frightened to go out,
Wishing the war would end always left me in doubt.
Being a hostage at home for not two years, but six
Makes me have memories of war that will, with me, always stick.
World War Two began in September, in nineteen-thirty-nine,
With Germany declaring that “Poland will be mine!”
Thousands of attacks later, the war seems to finish,
Making the terror, from our hearts, slowly diminish.
With Hitler dead, Germany decided to surrender in May,
Making that one less country to attack, anyway.
We bombed Japan twice, with more victory to gain,
Even though many on both sides were writhing in pain.
Japan had to surrender with both arms held high,
They surrendered in September, nineteen-forty-five.
Upon hearing the news, we high-fived and hugged,
Because for so long the war had us bugged.
I’m glad to report that my family is well,
My friends are alive, with their stories to tell.
So many years have passed, and I sigh with relief,
As I look back and remember those who have suffered with grief.
I can now tell all of you that war is that bad,
The suffering, the deaths really do make us all sad,
So to prevent another from starting, please spread the word,
You’ll never know, my story will spread like a flock of many a bird.
Mark my word, you can’t say that I’m wrong,
I’ll always be right, until the day that I’m gone.
