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I Learned To Paint

At seventeen my hand was raised  
In oath to paper  
I was taken to an assembly line
I was taught to stand, wait
I learned to paint  
 
At eighteen i was sat in a corner  
Of a room without end
The wall, soft to the touch
Cathartic
My own stretch of a greater canvas  
 
At Twenty four I took a step back
To see my contribution
For the first time
I finally looked across the wall  
To see a beast covered in blood  
 
Marking its tracks were names  
Many I had almost forgotten
Most I had never seen
More than I could count  
Dissapearing as soon as they came  
 
I raised my hand again
As their names took shape  
Carving it with a permanent stain
I dropped my brush in the other
Shaking  
 
I just wanted to paint
BenJohnson
Written by BenJohnson (Darth Brooks)
Published
Author's Note
I've been struggling to find a way to express me learning just how bad the military i serve in is. While I dont know how to atone yet. I know now that what I'm doing is wrong and that's going to...
I've been struggling to find a way to express me learning just how bad the military i serve in is. While I dont know how to atone yet. I know now that what I'm doing is wrong and that's going to change.
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