fragments
By celticman
Sat, 23 Feb 2019
- 498 reads
2 comments
1 likes
The smell of blood on snow was strong
And so it went on and on
Eyes that were drilled and breasts cut off
Freezing she could not wait
In her knapsack a child’s patch
A rubber bird that had never flown
A long rambling letter home
An arm, a leg and still no blood
Clean white skin and face plucked
Dead sit among the dying
Bodies with caps and uniforms
Deep jagged wounds and parades
Fragments of bullets and grenades
One hand-rolled cigarette for three
Two snore and murder history
Mummy, Mummy, where are you?
Life wails its fate
He refused to die
That was the official cry.
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