Fallujah
The city seems a single color
Sandy tones, although heightened others
Shops of greens, blues and reds
Bullet holes in buildings, memories of soldiers dead.
The city is a wreck, mirrored on people's faces
Hatred staring at us, as our heart races
These people can't forgive and neither can we
Remembering the rounds of depleted uranium, shot on tv
As the conflict draws to an end
The Americans have left maimed
The city remains a keg of powder
And 'the base' they hold the flame.
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