Thread: The Silver Spoons Which Feed Platoons

The silver spoons which feed platoons
Are destined to grow worn too soon
The shells they spent on weakened prey
They pray their fates won’t end their days
The dine in sunny streets and sleep
While all other’s children weep

But whilst we have these silver spoons
We’ll stream the skies and take the moon
When no one here would want to stay
And slowly become weakened prey
And dine and weep on empty streets
On top of bodies On top the sheep





Author:This is one of my first poems so really lay it on me.

Welcome Diddler. This being one of your first poems. I must say you did a fine job. You get across the ravages of war very well using the silver spoons as a metaphor. Your ryming is consistant and meter quite good. I happen to like the ending very much. That "punch" at the very end. I'm always a sucker for that!

And dine and weep on empty streets
On top of bodies On top the sheep

I really have not nits and hope to read much more of your work! Laurie

I'm glad you like it.

I think it would improve the flow of this poem if you went through it with punctuation. The capital letters at the beginning of each line interfere with the read. I agree with Laurie too, the end line is a good strong ending.