The world loves making dead soldiers. In highlands, Or fields, And beaches, And valleys, And passes, And forests, And jungles, And mountains, And deserts, And numbered, nicknamed hills. The world made dead soldiers atop a glacier once; people said it couldn’t be done. The world won’t stop making dead soldiers, But no one does anything … Continue reading For The Dead
Copy and paste this URL into your WordPress site to embed
Copy and paste this code into your site to embed