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Iraq War Poem (1) Writing Mom
Some once said
hell is the imposiblity of reason
thats whats this place feels like mom hell
We sleep all day mom
and drive all night like ghosts thru the desert
no one talks
no one
talking out here could get you killed
thats as little as it takes
I miss you mom so much
in a half hour
its back to patrol
back to the sand
I may make it home in one piece
but I will never be whole again
none of us will
shit gun fire
dont panic its routine
kiss grandma for me
see you soon
love chris.
poem
by
Vincent Armone
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