Tuesday, February 22, 2011

8 line poem

The bloody, beat soldiers baking in the burning sun.
The fight for freedom is not fun.
Burning heat, boiling skin blistering.
Fighting foes is not fascinating.
A death a day is a delay for slumber.
How many dead in a day we all wonder.
Sandy storms surround the soldiers.
Suppressed shoots sliding through the air surprising yet another soldier.

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