Battering drums of feet hitting pavement,
Cackling cacophony of shrilll gossips treats,
Shoving past war painted, birther's of terror,
Occasional screeching's of insincere greets.
I hold my position and scan the horizon,
No movement of forces, no sighting of ranks,
Opponents and rivals move inwards towards me,
Pressing in at my sides, and sniping my flanks.
Saturday 24th January 2015 3:28 am
Tags: childhood,love,returning troops,school,son,war,world war 1
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Lea on (6 hours ago)