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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Military >> ID #1673227 |
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REALITY
He heard the rifle crack Felt a pain in his back Then woke up in his sack. Dreaming... Lying on the ground dead Is what the medic said Eyes open, again in bed. Dreaming... Wounded flesh smells like rot Wonders for what he fought Wakes on a Red Cross cot. Dreaming... Stumbling through the door Drunk, doesn't care anymore Spent the night on the floor. Reality... ![]()
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