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Just a chore

Stacked on the runway,
no longer evoking sorrow and grief,
no longer a macabre, task.
Just a bloody chore.
No longer the respect and care,
no longer tact and sympathy.
Just a bloody chore.
Not sons and daughters,
not fathers and mothers.
Just a bloody back breaking chore.
Bloody body bags.
Written by Fidofood
Published
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