The truth is he laid beside me on the firing line
my brother
No race or colour came into it
He shaved one day and cut his chin
and the blood flowed deepest red
And so I said "my brother let me bleed instead
I care not from where you come
the colour of your skin
You are the brother whom I love
on the fighting line
The deadly day the bullet hit
I shed the tears for you
It was me who cleaned the blood and ****
from the body that once was you
You see, you were black, I was white
but our blood ran the deepest red
And for me you took the round
and so my dear brother died
Jun 22, 2014
Jun 22, 2014 at 4:10 PM UTC
The truth is he laid beside me on the firing line
my brother
No race or colour came into it
He shaved one day and cut his chin
and the blood flowed deepest red
And so I said "my brother let me bleed instead
I care not from where you come
the colour of your skin
You are the brother whom I love
on the fighting line
The deadly day the bullet hit
I shed the tears for you
It was me who cleaned the blood and ****
from the body that once was you
You see, you were black, I was white
but our blood ran the deepest red
And for me you took the round
and so my dear brother died
And this might be poetry but based on the reality from my teenage years
