needing your help...yup...YOURS

It doesn't rhyme laying:

"Scribble scribble on my face
who will win the second race"

salamualikum
so what do we do ukthi?

&& England dude it doesn't have to rhyme

Take care

format_quote Originally Posted by Kittygyal

salamualikum
so what do we do ukthi?

&& England dude it doesn't have to rhyme

Take care

It sounds better



T'WAS THE NIGHT BEFORE CHRISTMAS, HE LIVED ALL ALONE,

IN A ONE BEDROOM HOUSE MADE OF PLASTER AND STONE.

I HAD COME DOWN THE CHIMNEY, WITH PRESENTS TO GIVE,

AND TO SEE JUST WHO, IN THIS HOME, DID LIVE?



I LOOKED ALL ABOUT, A STRANGE SIGHT I DID SEE,

NO TINSEL, NO PRESENTS, NOT EVEN A TREE.

NO STOCKING BY MANTLE, JUST BOOTS FILLED WITH SAND,

ON THE WALL HUNG PICTURES, OF FAR DISTANT LANDS.



WITH MEDALS AND BADGES, AWARDS OF ALL KINDS,

A SOBER THOUGHT, CAME THROUGH MY MIND.

FOR THIS HOUSE WAS DIFFERENT, IT WAS DARK AND DREARY,

I FOUND THE HOME OF A SOLDIER, ONCE I COULD SEE CLEARLY.



THE SOLDIER LAY SLEEPING, SILENT, ALONE,

CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR, IN THIS ONE BEDROOM HOME.

THE FACE WAS SO GENTLE, THE ROOM IN DISORDER,

NOT HOW I PICTURED, A BRITISH SOLDIER.



WAS THIS THE HERO, OF WHOM I'D JUST READ?

CURLED UP ON A PONCHO, THE FLOOR FOR A BED?

I REALIZED THE FAMILIES, THAT I SAW THIS NIGHT,

OWED THEIR LIVES TO THESE SOLDIERS, WHO WERE WILLING TO FIGHT.




SOON ROUND THE WORLD, THE CHILDREN WOULD PLAY,

AND GROWNUPS WOULD CELEBRATE A BRIGHT CHRISTMAS DAY.

THEY ALL ENJOYED FREEDOM, EACH MONTH OF THE YEAR,

BECAUSE OF THE SOLDIERS LIKE THE ONE LYING HERE.



I COULDN'T HELP WONDER, HOW MANY LAY ALONE,

ON A COLD CHRISTMAS EVE, IN A LAND FAR FROM HOME.

THE VERY THOUGHT BROUGHT, A TEAR TO MY EYE,

I DROPPED TO MY KNEES, AND STARTED TO CRY.



THE SOLDIER AWAKENED, AND I HEARD A ROUGH VOICE,

"SANTA, DON'T CRY,THIS LIFE IS MY CHOICE;

I FIGHT FOR FREEDOM; I DON'T ASK FOR MORE,

MY LIFE IS MY GOD, MY COUNTRY, MY CORPS."



THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER, AND DRIFTED TO SLEEP,

I COULDN'T CONTROL IT, I CONTINUED TO WEEP.

I KEPT WATCH FOR HOURS, SO SILENT AND STILL,

AND WE BOTH SHIVERED THERE, FROM THE COLD NIGHT'S CHILL.



I DIDN'T WANT TO LEAVE, ON THAT COLD, DARK, NIGHT,

THIS GUARDIAN OF HONOUR, SO WILLING TO FIGHT.

THEN THE SOLDIER ROLLED OVER, WITH A VOICE SOFT AND PURE,

WHISPERED, CARRY ON SANTA, ITS CHRISTMAS DAY, ALL IS SECURE."



ONE LOOK AT MY WATCH, AND I KNEW HE WAS RIGHT.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."

format_quote Originally Posted by +*Rooh*+

i dont mind scribbling on your face, ya know...really...AND i'm pretty good at scribbling too

It's a poem I made up when I was about 6 or 7 I thought it was great at the time...

format_quote Originally Posted by +*Rooh*+

hey england...that sounds rather for kids...and my poems aren't aimed at kids...they are aimed at mature individuals who can take the message andprobably even make a difference.

The one I posted above could make a difference and it needn't be for kids. I posted it on the other forum I registered to, which is pretty dead, and I got more replies to it that alot of other posts. It reminded them of their heroes. The fact it rhymes it sticks in your head.

format_quote Originally Posted by +*Rooh*+

i read the first few lines, saw that they rhymed and i'm like...meaningless...no offence...i just like voicing out my opinions...anyways...perhaps you migh be able to help

or perhaps not

Reading the 1st few lines lol and then complaining it's meaningless?

format_quote Originally Posted by +*Rooh*+

i read the first few lines, saw that they rhymed and i'm like...meaningless...no offence...i just like voicing out my opinions...anyways...perhaps you migh be able to help

or perhaps not

You can't ask for my help can you? I believe we're at war against terrorists to create a better standard of life for muslims in Iraq. To give them freedom. Muslims, however, believe differently. Muslims believe we are in Iraq to wipe out muslims. Our troops are thought to be "the crusades." Therefore my reason for war is incompatible to your poem.

Nice work, +*Rooh*+

I like the cocoon of hope, which one day will turn in a butterfly and will fly free Its highly poetic.