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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1491567
This poem is about a person feeling guilty.
All of my comrades died today, but what do we have to show for it? All of the blood that was shed today will be remembered, but my purpose will die.

I was the one that started it all. I always had to be outspoken. I never listen to any of the warnings they all gave. But now it’s too late.

And now, I can’t give back the lives that were lost today. I’m sorry, but I’ve changed. And I barely even know myself any more.

I’m sorry.
© Copyright 2008 Roxi Nicole Valdae (alleecat at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1491567-Blood