Senses- War Prisoners! :D or more like D': By: Mookenzie!!!!!

Sorry for the oddness of this not-so poem. I know it is sort of gruesome. --------------------------------- War prisoners By: Guess who? Mackenzie! I look, horrified, at the broken bodies around me, limbs splayed at impossible angles as they lay motionless on the floor. I listen for footsteps as I pick up moaning and pleas for the torture to stop, and voices begging for death, as to leave what’s left of this world. I touch the walls around me, desperate for a chance of escape, though it would be worthless to try, as they would hunt me down. I smell death, poison, the moist, moldy smell of the dirt floor and old bars, rusty from the tears of the captives trapped there. I taste my own sweat, and the blood that had dribbled from the wound on my head and into my panting mouth. I often dream of the time when the war will stop, And I will be free to live my life freely once again. -------------------------------------------- Isn’t that a happy thought? (No.) Your welcome for ruining your day! ~Mackenzie