Some Random Poem I Did In English

I Had To Do This In Like 10 Mins at most in english
its crap


Cold And Weary Here We Stand
Fighting In This Muddy Land

Leaving The Flares and Bursting Shells
Getting Away This Hell

Lurching Away Without Any Boots
Winning a war is no hoot

Tired and Listless we can't hear
the bombs of gas of which we fear

Realizing that there poisnoned Gass
"Gass" you shour out fast

Everyone quickly puts on that horrid mask
except one poor man who's too slow at that task

The Gas Closes in on us
i start to loudely cuss

a man come's rushing up "everything's going to be ok" you lie
but in you'r heart you know he is going to die

Now Imagen it was you
walking behind this wagon too
watching a man of brown hair and eyes die
isent' war horrible dont lie

Imagen Lisening to him drown
making those horrible sounds
lung's filling up with blood
this person caked in mud

Now If you had seen what i had seen
when you where a teen
you would not say it was glarious to die
for you'r country or queen

yeh its crap
and i have a thing about rhyming

It's really intense. xD I like it a lot. Nice job. (:

Its Really Like The Poem Dulce Est Decorum Est :
Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares2 we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest3 began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots4
Of tired, outstripped5 Five-Nines6 that dropped behind.

Gas!7 Gas! Quick, boys! – An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets8 just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime9 . . .
Dim, through the misty panes10 and thick green light,
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering,11 choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud12
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest13
To children ardent14 for some desperate glory,
The old Lie; Dulce et Decorum est
Pro patria mori.1

I Did the poem in english. i think its like it because at the start they're in a war and then they are poisened with gas and all but one of them put on their masks. the last verse is all about that mans death. "Dulce et Decorum est " means it is honourable to die for ones country. the poet says this is a lie. the bit is like your last line too.
have you done this poem before ? were you inspired by it ?

Haha, that's good!

The poems I write for English are always done in like ten minutes, then all my classmates are like "OMG THAT WAS GOOD HOWD U DO IT?!?!?!1" and I'm just like thank you lol, I used pencil and paper.

But these poems are toooooooons better than mine xD

I just think of poems i got off the internet to help me! lolz