Ownerless

War is
the sound
of immobilized men
begging for water
moaning the names of loved ones
praying to God
calling out for someone to end it all

It is the gasping for air
through blood clogged throats
The frantic tearing apart of clothes
to see where the bullet went through

It is the hiss of gases
escaping bloated bodies
the hum of flies
the pecking of the crow

It is the headless
armless
legless
disemboweled

It is blood soaked
grass
sand
carpets
blankets

It is the scattering of ownerless
combs
photos
wallets
canteens

It is the knowing
and the unknowing

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Filed under History, outlaw poetry, poem, poetry

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