18 - 07 - 2009

He Joined at 16. Was dead by 18.
_ _ _

Their bodies are marched

Through the streets, clothed

In red, white and blue.


Their bodies are quiet

Lying cold, conveyed as

A token from the feud.


The carcass is parched

In a published emotion,

Looking like boys: they are just eighteen.

Poem I wrote in response to the recent deaths of service personnel on duty in Afghanistan. 

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