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Oct 2013
There was a time his armor waited ready by the door.

His heart burst at the shout of comrades gathered for the war.

The darkling night would cower at the echo of their roar,

But the solitary soldier fights no more.

Too many broken shields now lie in trenches near his home,

And  countless lost and missing loves are searching for their own.

The carving is still fresh upon the monumental stone

And the solitary soldier stands alone.

The cry of battle far away sounds harsh against the night.

The tattered flag is lowered. He recoils at the sight.

No matter how he wishes he can never make it right.

So the solitary soldier ends his fight.
I am sorry. So sorry.
Jane Clark
Written by
Jane Clark  Virginia, USA.
(Virginia, USA.)   
451
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