war poetry

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"I will always be with you"

Those were the words I whispered to her before I left,
Before I went to fight a war that was not my own
For a country that I will never call home.
She cried.
And as I picked up my bags to leave
We shared one last kiss
And like a child hanging on to his favorite toy I treasure it.

On the battle field where human bodies are disposed of like waste from a rubish truck
And grown men cry bitterly
As limbs are torn from their bodies
I sit in the trench.
Numb.
My mind drifting to that last kiss
And the words I promised her
"I can't die here" I thought
But death seems like a better option
Cause surviving this would mean going home to a celebration,
A parade, red carpet and strangers chanting hurray as they pin a symbol of courage to my body.

Why are we celebrating?
My brothers are dead,
Your husbands, are, dead
And yet we drink wine
The thought of survival kills me
But I promised her
"I will always be with you", I said.

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