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Author's Note: I dedicate this poem to all soldiers, veterans, and loved ones of soldiers
who've passed away in war.
I sit at my bedroom window
Rain trickling down the glass
And I think of the doom and gloom
Others are going through
I look at the light across the road
In house number 82
And wonder if they are happy
Or sad
Or if they are like me
Thinking about soldiers, and dying.
I'd like to point out
To all that think they have it bad
That no one has it worse than those in war.
When a soldier goes off to war,
They expect bombing, attacks, smoke.
What they get is what they expect
But what they want is not what they get.
Dying and killing,
Killing and dying.
What difference does it make?
Both make someone unhappy,
Both make someone ashamed.
So I say to those soldiers out there
Who are dying or killing or both
I'm sorry that you have to do this
But I'm thankful that you are.
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