Our Choice
For the love of man
That which I see
So hollow and empty
(Like a casket yet filled)
Yet still, something inside cries
For empty arms have what to hold
At what cost
Should life be bought
(The price of war)
Over love that’s sought
I shall take my penitence
As well as my leave
For it is our choice
That which we believe
You know my disadvantage is
having no Poetic knowledge. I
I looked up E.E. Cummings and
read some of his poem's and I
have no idea if this poem will
be acceptable, but hey I tried.
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