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Flags of War
I pledge condolence to a blood stained flag
the flying desperation of a world at war.
Flying in honor of the many boys misled,
and the loaded gun in the grip of a city boy at war.
A waving warning to twisted adherents of crooked ethics,
thousands of wily eyes, grim, gazing into guile and war.
To the sand carpeted deserts of the sun beaten middle-east
where from caves and building shells they make war.
To the Asian jungles swallowed in relentless flames
engulfing thatched-roof hut embassies of war.
To gloomy European trenches, boys starving, rotting,
while bullets spark and spiral across a lonely front of war.
To haunted cotton fields and solemn forests of the south
where deceased soldiers whisper tails of a not-so-civil war.
They all chant together as history progresses
and others join the echoing hymn of war.
Stop mankind, for a minute and heed the anthem;
lower the breeze swept injustice and wonder, what is war?
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