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Apr 2017
The hills were covered withe green grass.
Flowers every where.
As they came to battle
A young boy called, The hills will be red today.
As each fell to their blood death.
They fired their guns over and over. each dropping.
No where to hide. !
The boy called one last time.
Fill these hills with Yankee blood.
Then a shot took his life.
One more falls as the grass gets red.
Written by
Harold r hunt sr  63/M/union sc
(63/M/union sc)   
92
 
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