crippled to the bone,
we ambled across the panorama.
bitter and distressed, we marched in the vicinity of our distant graves.
trudging behind us, are our lone shadows.
dreams were haunted by the faint memory,
of brothers killing brothers, for the fictional glory.
yet, still no smile on the soldiers face,
for in hell,
there is no happiness.written by Lauren McCourt
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Poetry uncovered
PoetryI write poems. There is only one word to describe this poetry novel: Random