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Sand Angels

Little children play
In the dry sand all day
They play in the hot beating sun, the sun smiling on their faces
Only expecting fun
But all the children’s parents dread
When the lead starts flying over head
Then come the men in splotched tan and brown, carrying their weapons of war
Firing lead back at the enemies that shot
Flames and metal exploding
Bodies of innocent people corroding
Now the boy who
Was playing in the sun, while the lead was flying over head
Lays in the sand he once played in making sand angels…..dead





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