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Thursday, March 11, 2010

Never Cured

I’ve seen death’s eyes,
in a soldiers last gasp.
I’ve heard its ire cries,
in child’s last grasp.

Death beseeches all,
I’ve seen the effect.
War quickens the call,
lives it does infect.

Vision’s of war,
never to be cured.
Causing a mental sore,
of those endured.

In this I sigh,
my mind is ill.
Death is nigh,
It’s a soldiers will.
Joe Moore
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COMMENTS
Sara Beloved 14 March 2010
Wow... I really like this poem!
0 0 Reply

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