Summary
The web content is a poignant reflection on the experiences of individuals living through war, juxtaposing the harsh realities of conflict with the enduring human capacity for hope and love.
Abstract
The poem "A Poem About War" delves into the harrowing experiences of those who have been born, grown up, and lived their lives amidst the chaos of warfare. It paints a vivid picture of the pain and loss suffered by individuals, including the tragic death of a friend named Joleen. Despite the darkness, moments of joy, hope, and laughter are remembered, illustrating the resilience of the human spirit. The poem emphasizes the longing for peace and the heartache of a life overshadowed by conflict. It is complemented by related works from Neera Handa Dr and Amna Fayyaz, which similarly explore the theme of peace and the universal need for it in the face of violence and uncertainty.
Opinions
This poem is an attempt to reflect on the pain of people suffering around the world for reasons aside from humanity, peace, unity, and love.
May the world get a grip. And power in any hand shall flip. A very clear little glancer. Love and peace is always the answer.
I was born during the war. Grew up in war. Loved. And. Celebrated in war.
I was a child of the war. While there was no more. Daughter. Wife. Friend. And mother. While I cried. When no one would bother.
I lived like there was no dawn. And no tomorrow. Being drawn. No light. No morning. Only war. In a father’s sorrow.
When I was seventeen. There was no tomorrow for my friend Joleen. Only death. Over a breath. Only darkness. In his wreath.
The heartache it brought. Inevitable and caught. I saw the pain. And I saw tears. When there was left no more years.
But yet again. I’ve also seen joy. In cold sequences to deploy. I’ve seen hope and laughter. In fractions of disaster.
While my life. On the shiny top of their knife. Ambivalent. Fulfilled. Empty. When there was movement. Scarce and plenty.
I lived during war. Laughed in its face. Cried out. Being ripped of my space.
But eventually. I died. Coincidentally. Inside. Yet a twist. So bizarre. When I died. During the war.
What’s peace? In the quest for a child. In war. A very heartbreaking piece by Neera Handa Dr
Another poem about peace by Amna Fayyaz