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Poem 4: Blood and Tears (warning: sadness)

I hear the screams of my friends.
I knew that I had to end this.

The tales of war for me were myths.
But all the deaths I’ve faced.

I wish the fighting would cease.
That there would be peace.

But this is World War II .
And you can feel fear in the air.

I hope my prayer is heard.
The art created from blood.

Who knows what’s abroad?
The things I’ve fought for.

The blood and tears that I shed.
The food that has been fed to me.

I try to flee to death.
As I draw my last breath.
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