Toasty's Poems

And Your Trumpet Can Sing

Black Poem | Teen Poem : Your Inst'ment's a-singin', Better than you usually do.A sense of rhythm, not in use, To sing the way you do.But still your Trumpet's shreiking, Speakin' C to shining C.At the edge of comprehension, My mind says 'Let It B.'

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Grave of the Fireflies (TO THE FALLEN SOLDIERS!)

Black Poem | War Poem : The strong, brave soldier manMarches off to warOne hand on a gun, resting from workThe other is bandaged with scarsFar away a woman criesWith photographs in her armsShe wishes she could be there with her baby boyTo protect him from harmThe daughter and the sonMournfully dress in blackBecause they kn

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