Unmarked She Says

“Come home” she whispered to

The memory of child so sweet who

Out in the day and gone for the night

Never yet returned to her sight.

Slight of suspicion plagues

Playground of worry touches all she says

Field filled with unmarked graves

Her son’s touch all she craves.

Crippled by guilt

It was her who caused her flowers wilt.

Join up and fight their war,

Nation’s pride in all what for?

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