A poem about for all those who have lost love to war.
Fruity scent,
sparks loves lament.
Marching band,
to war he went.
No more smiles,
or holding hands.
Broken dreams,
of wedding plans.
Never more,
on beds they’ll lie.
He will fight,
and surely die.
Upon a street,
on foreign land.
His blood spilt,
for another’s sand.
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