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War....A Grey Matter....1914
Dulling grey eyes scour the landscape slate
Charcoal skies
Tipped with dishonest
Silver linings
Our hero slowly dies
Slipping as
Uniforms dash past
Darts of scarlet
Scratch the hopeless land
And
Faint voices cut the silence
In vile desperation
Our hero
Sand
Merely a removable object
Soon to be forgotten
Soon to be replaced by summers opulence
Whilst I just sit and write?
poem
by
Karen Sinclair
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