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My 70’s War Protest Poem Revisited



With some unknown sense
I felt his stare
upon my neck.
He stalk’d me,
trail’d my every move
and now
victory was in his reach.
I turned slowly,
gazed into my enemy’s eyes
and knew I was finished.
He laughed,
smiled and taunted,
then fired.
I grabbed my burning stomach,
and fell to the ground
still hearing his laughter.
I would get even
after lunch,
for war was only a game
when we were young.

*Any use of this poem without the written consent of the author is expressly forbidden.

Copyright Tristan-Paul J. Hand and All Alone in a Crowd

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