Page Back

Poetry Index

Killers - a poem by Carl Sandburg

I am singing to you
Soft as a man with a dead child speaks;
Hard as a man in handcuffs,
Held where he cannot move:

Under the sun
Are sixteen million men,
Chosen for shining teeth,
Sharp eyes, hard legs,
And a running of young warm blood in their wrists.

And a red juice runs on the green grass;
And a red juice soaks the dark soil.
And the sixteen million are killing. . . and killing
and killing.

I never forget them day or night:
They beat on my head for memory of them;
They pound on my heart and I cry back to them,
To their homes and women, dreams and games.

I wake in the night and smell the trenches,
And hear the low stir of sleepers in lines
Sixteen million sleepers and pickets in the dark:
Some of them long sleepers for always,

Some of them tumbling to sleep to-morrow for always,
Fixed in the drag of the world's heartbreak,
Eating and drinking, toiling. . . on a long job of killing.
Sixteen million men.

Carl Sandburg


Killers - a poem by Carl Sandburg

A poem can stir all of the senses, and the subject matter of a poem can range from being funny to being sad. We hope that you liked this poem and the sentiments in the words of Killers by Carl Sandburg you will find even more poem lyrics by this famous author by simply clicking on the Poetry Index link below! Choose Poetry online for the greatest poems by the most famous poets. 

Page BackPoetry Index 2015 Siteseen Ltd Cookie PolicyBy Linda AlchinPrivacy Statement