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Not By Bread
Folder:
Falklands 82 Not By Bread
Energy in the form of.....
Little grey swirls,
Brushed aside the grass.
Coppery messages,
from......
Death.
They passed me by.
Drawing fragments,of my soul.
Sucked by the bullets wake.
My fear, for a moment gone.
Until, we rose, to fight.
And I stood ....,
Alone.
Giajl © Jim Love
