just so you know, this is unedited, and it was done in about ten mins.

the guns are silent once more, and the carrion birds descend.  This battle field which once knew so much violence and blood shed, is quiet. The acts that were committed here should never have been committed, things that no man in his right mind can conceive.  the landscape is bleak, mounds of dirt rise on both sides;  red and brown mix, the earth seems to bleed; remains of men and machines of war still litter the scene.  the eerie quiet is broken by a ragged cough, soon men who still hold the spark of life enter the landscape.  they shamble, slowly moving back to there old home.  the pace is slow but each and every man breaths heavy,  the sound of distant gun fire blows over the ridge; one man tries to break into a trot, he trips on a piece of rubble.  that simple action reveals part of a man, a groan is heard from below the earth, frantically people flood the area, more of the groaning man is revealed.  no one knows who he is, but no one cares, the men begin to feel hope,
"if a man such as him can survive an ordeal like that then so can I!"
line open line of soldiers file into the once abandoned trenches, man the once unmanned guns and wait.

a day passes and all seems calm, some wonder if retreat was really what they should have done, others wonder if the people they left behind to guard their rear were able to do more then they were tasked with.  all of this thinking is stopped as the shells fall once again.  first heard as a distant boom, then a whistle, then the shell leaves its destruction.  hearts sink, all think they will die, any hope is lost, as the first few rounds hit their marks. the one who was saved waits for the dirt to cover him once again.

BY: Robert Nice

Another crapy poem, hope you like it.

Mire, it can stop you entirely,
Or simply slow you down.
Mire an ugly word when left alone

Mire is a word with out a mate,
Something distasteful and seldom used 
This poem is mired in itself.

Quag a word that is ugly in appearance,
And also in use,
But what would happen if you combined the two?

Quagmire, it simply means confusion,
Such a lovely word, and pleasing to the ear

Put two distastefull people together and the effect is the same,
While they might still hamper or harm 
They can still be beautiful,

All one needs is a mate.

  

By Robert nice

Crapy poem, I hope you like it.

Life goes on and on, never stoping never waiting 
You are simply pulled along for the ride
When the good comes you embrace it's presence and wish it not to leave
When the bad arrives it stays to long and doesn't know when to leave
you don't care because all of the bad wither and die with age 
But the good seems to own the eluded of immortality 
Life never seises but the mind can linger.  

This is what happened officer......

One day earlier..
"John" my friend shouted at me, "get you're head out of the fucking clouds and help me move this fucking box!". I turned slowly facing him and i said, "dude you should really stop drinking, you're a really angry drunk.". He took a long swig from his bottle of beer and said in a slow even tone, "you think so?" his voice gradually got louder as he continued "do! You! Think so! Well I don't I think I drink as much as a real man should!", he started advancing toward me bottle in hand with the meanest look I had ever seen in his eye.  In one swift motion he breaks the bottle on the box he was lifting and brandishes it like it were a sword swinging it from left to right.  I put both hands in front of my self and try to calm him down, "frank you don't know what you're doing, AHH!   Damit stop swinging that thing around!" he made one more pass with the bottle and thats when I hit him.  I kinda forget what happened next all I remember is his body, and his blood on my hands
By Robert Nice