A story...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
A story I wrote on my english class, I decided to post it here.

Submitted: March 13, 2014

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Submitted: March 13, 2014

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It happened so fast. Talks of peace and growth, but no 'peace' happened. First came the planes, dropping gas like rain falling from the sky. Roads were filled with people praying for a god, but he did not come. The leader talked about justice and prosperity. Then, marching through the streets, came the soldiers, no mercy was shown, just bullets. He talked about a program to save us, but he only saved himself.

People were frightened and hidden, like rats, on corners. Families torn apart and shot, or chocking to the poisonous gas. They remember when freedom was natural, and survival was easy. Money is not valuable anymore, just useless paper, as it has always been. Life was now the new currency, and it was running low.

How can soldiers command under a tyrant? No one knows, not even them. They just do as they are told, like slaves, and perform the most evil act of them all, death. We consider democracy the best way of government, but how does that work, when all our choices are liars?


© Copyright 2020 Jose Rawlins. All rights reserved.

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