Pieces from the Whole This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

March. March.
Left. Right.
Left. Right.
March. March.

Desert scorches
Heavy breath
Dusty air
Taking death

March. March.
Left. Right.
Left. Right.
March. March.

Stomping boots
Camouflaged souls
Bloody wounds
I’ve grown to know

March. March.
Left. Right.
Left. Right.
March. March.

Stomping feet
Make a steady pace
To which I count
Those my gun erased

One. Two.
Three. Four.
March. March.

Upon my shoulders
Are these four lives
It’s a heavy weight
I’ve grown to like

March. March.
Left. Right.
Left. Right.
March. March.

Nothing better
Than to count war wounds
As a piece of you
Craves for more

March. March.
Left. Right.
Left. Right.
March. March.

Nothing better
Than to count war wounds
While the other piece
Rots away

March.
Left.
Right.
March.





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