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Jun 2013
One man dead before another
over and over, and over.
I see them when i slumber
I hear them when i feast.

Rosy crimson waterfalls gushing from mouths
Just lonely toy soldiers devouring masked boys
These fresh open cuts know no salvation
will never taste sweet paracetamol.

One man kills another, without even a name exchanged
Is this a man's worth? Can he even be blamed?

The boy whispers to his father:
When you go to war
You're not a man anymore
Written by
Drewy nickson
642
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