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Sep 2020
I charged at the enemy, slashed, cracked, pierced, wounded and killed.
The ecstasy of fleeting lives, still stale eyes, a ****** reached.
***** mingled with feces, kidneys cooked by grenades, a scent
of the battlefield.

I am in diapers my ***** now mingled with feces, faces of nurses
scowling. My skin a worn, wrinkled cloth.
Scars of a warriors pride have long faded. I can taste no more
My sight
a sea of shadows, whispers of waling widows cling to my ears. I long for battle cries.
I use to breathe battle but now I'm bedridden with tubes and diapers.
no sleep, no rest, no peace nor death.
I wrote a poem called the old lady, this one is about an old man.
Jamie King
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Jamie King  you know
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