Brutal War Poem by Romina SawardClarke

Fully grown young men are crowded, waiting to sighn their lives away to the cruilty of war.
Beards shaved.
Suits pressed.
Punctuated applauses are bellowed throughout the crowd.
Girls scream to their heroes as they depart never to be seen again.
Majors are uncaring to their faithal soldiers.
They fling dead corpses in fire, with no remorse or pitty twords their family members.
loved ones send letters, mendacious letters are sent back.
The truth will never be set free from custody.
I knew this was going to happen, but no one believed me.
My husband is lying motionlessly, burnt and crincled in some bin at the war ground.
I can neither see or touch his blessed soul.
I weep constantly.
Night and day.
Freinds and family talk about the rmarkable war daily.
Evryone will soon face their unknowingly fate.
They will no the truth it will be set free.