THE SOLDIERS

A blink of dust, my grandfather was shooting because he had to defend a homeland.

I have not been in battle but I have fought many wars.
Black crosses on the heart and mud on the hands.

My grandfather was in the trenches, risking his life to defend our nation from the Nazis.

I did not know that there were men exterminating children.

Last beats for wars that have begun and never ended. Flowers on the graves of friends and girlfriends, stars fallen in the desert sunlight.

Rivers that fill the houses with tears, honors without choice, a deserted pit.
Children who scream and have no guilt.

War kills whoever decides it but whoever makes it is still dying.

( To all the dead sons, to all the dead fathers, to all the dead daughters and the dead mothers. To all the people who died from causes decided by other people. R.I.P) 

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