My comrades
Where art though?
On mud mixed with gore
I wonder what I fight for?
What is freedom but a word
Our voices but go unheard
My friends cut down in silent screams
Nothing is ever what it seems
Blame one another if you will
Of death and hate I’ve had my fill
You have no idea what I’ve seen
How can you if you can’t believe
Where are the politicians who made war
Where are they but behind closed doors
It’s here they should be, amongst the dead and dying
Hearing death and children crying
Blood will forever be on their hands…
Posted on Nov 11, 2018
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