Hang

The sun is out
and all the tears have dried
but wounded are the fallen
and their misplaced pride.
A hope so simple
and a dream so dear,
but life is more pragmatic
then what one’s heart will hear.
A battlefield is calling
but there’s not a soldier left
save for blundering
who are little less than deft.
So who will win a war
that started with bang
and ended quickly
with many souls to hang?

© Autumn Siders 2018
Hang

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