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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2012492
Rated: 13+ · Poetry · War · #2012492
In the end, we have each other's back.


I can hear them creeping through the night.

"You watch the left, I've got the right".

The rest are lying in the mud.

The thirsty Earth drinks in their blood.

We climbed the hill as a group of ten.

But none will be going down again.

We found them, or they found us.

It no longer seems to matter much.

They kept on coming, we all were hit.

First Tom, then Doc, and then the Brit.

Now flares and tracers are the only light.

The screams had gone with the falling night.

What's happened to the others I couldn't see.

But now there's only Tex and me.

My leg is broken, and he's lost a hand.

Our back's to this wall, our own "Last Stand".

"There comin' Tex, it's time to fight.

You watch the left, I've got the right".

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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2012492