War.
Sometimes, Sometimes I think of war.
Going off, with meaning added to my existence.
A sense of respect and accomplishment. A brotherhood.
Sometimes, Sometimes I think of going to war.
To leave society, To fight. To do more than exist.
I want to be more, I want to live, Yet I want to die.
Sometimes, Sometimes I think of going to war to die.
My second ever poem, would love some comments, I’m always trying to improve