PTSD (Remove filter)
Ricochet
Shells fly overhead,
dust kicking up in the air
filling the lungs,
and choking the life
from the blank eyes.
Staring up wide eyed and teary
as the life slips away,
Laying there bare to the bone
stripped of the soul
lost to the sea of dust and rubble
laying underfoot of the building
...
Saturday 3rd February 2018 12:58 am
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