War Poem by Jordan Black

War



Bodys littered through the street
neither side signals retreat
atmosphere is cold and dead
bombs anarchy exchanges of lead
uniforms ironed well presented
not all some with holes well vented
dogs choppers rifles blood an guts
constant battles allied forces stuck in ruts
barracks road blocks the angry mobs
every wars ends in dialogue...

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Jordan Black

Jordan Black

Rockhampton
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