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brodie-corrigan
Canadian Random boy, writing random thoughts, for random reasons
Dreams and hopes thrown away like discarded toys when you realise it was all futile actions As you sit there thinking where it went wrong why did it have to happen to you walking through your personal graveyard of things out of your reach and hopeless to achieve
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Sep 2, 2013
Sep 2, 2013 at 2:02 AM UTC
Wasteland
The pitched shrill of the whistle sounds the explosions can be felt deep underground the mass of men scream and shout the conscripts are all moving out the Germans sit there waiting for us all we can do is move forward, its a must They took over our land, it makes me so mad So I am here, at Stalingrad
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Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 1:14 AM UTC
The Massed Rush
From the starting point in Poland To the hedgerows of France High above the English countryside to the depths of the Atlantic In the sand-ridden dunes of Egypt, Libya and Tunisia to the foothills and mountains of Sicily and Italy From the Pacific to Asia minor we fought Storming the beaches of Normandy to taking back France From Guadalcanal to Okinawa from Burma to China We fought
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Aug 18, 2013
Aug 18, 2013 at 11:16 PM UTC
A Theater of War
My goal every day is to wake up with a smile, Help others for the sake of helping, Greet everyone with a smile, Be sad or happy when it is appropriate, try to have fun and bring joy to each day. After I finish doing all of that, I'll go to sleep thinking what I should do tomorrow.
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Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 12:32 AM UTC
Positivity
There's always someone there that likes you. Someone who laugh at your dumb jokes on the inside. Someone who appreciates your weird talents. Someone who likes having you around. Someone who thinks you're the definition of beautiful. Someone who looks a little deeper inside you. Always remember that.
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Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 12:19 AM UTC
To Someone's Liking
Whats that over there? An Armadillo! Whats he doing now? A Scented Pillow! Filling it up with lots of Potpourri! Selling it down by the roadside!
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Aug 16, 2013
Aug 16, 2013 at 12:11 AM UTC
Armadillo
They rush forward to try and destroy me, yet I cut them down. The horses and men charge to try and flank me, yet I mow them down. I am fed belts of bullets which I spit out at speed. My chatter installs fear into the enemy I am a new type of weapon that has changed warfare forever.
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 11:34 AM UTC
The Mettalic Chatter of Death
The deafening pounding from the heavy guns, the sloshing of mud under foot, the call of the sergeant to standby, the whistle that blows a signal to us, and the roar of a million men shouting
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 11:30 AM UTC
The Sound of Battle
The abused man walks away from the laughter. Unfortunately he continues to be chased after. He tries so hard to keep his head high. Even though he is broken inside.
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Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 11:25 AM UTC
The Battle Continues
The man who is abusive to weaklings is praised for his actions The man who stands by and watches wishes he can do something the man who is supportive to the abuser is hailed as a good friend the man who is being abused can do nothing for fear of retaliation
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Aug 4, 2013
Aug 4, 2013 at 7:17 PM UTC
An Everyday Battlefield