by John Sinclair | Mar 3, 2008 | Poetry
What is it that makes you feel alive? Is it the rain on your face? As it pours down The cold in the morning Or the sun on your back The day your wife said I do When you promised to always love her Through the good and the bad The highs and the lows Is it the scream...
by John Sinclair | Mar 3, 2008 | Poetry
We all sit around the fire Watching the flames getting higher Who was it who started this fire? The flames could not get any higher Now that is what I call a fire It’s cold and we huddle together Trying to keep out the weather Whilst we sit we start to blether The war...
by John Sinclair | Feb 27, 2008 | Poetry
An Angel of sorrow has spread her wings over no mans land Her tears they fall from the sky For some men this means that they will die This is why the angel does cry The bombs and bullets start to rain down The angel’s wings they beat to the sound As the bombs and...
by John Sinclair | Feb 27, 2008 | Poetry
An angel came to visit today On this day I now know why I swear I could hear her cry As I patrolled down the streets My maker the players did want me to meet The war was on A soul was to be moved on A loud bang and a flash No time to dash I end up covered in rubble...
by John Sinclair | Feb 25, 2008 | Poetry
As I stood there looking death in the face Wondering will he be charitable considerate or kind? Or does he deal the blow Will it be quick or will it be slow? I feel my body come alive From the soles of my feet To the tips of my hair My senses tingle I feel the cold...
