July dribbles - 9
Red was the birth of their crying
White was the wonder we felt at the sight
Blue-threaded veins mirrored midnight in baby-sweet eyes.
Red is the blood of their dying
White is the blanket that hides them from sight
Blue is the pain of mothers whose sons pay our price.
White was the wonder we felt at the sight
Blue-threaded veins mirrored midnight in baby-sweet eyes.
Red is the blood of their dying
White is the blanket that hides them from sight
Blue is the pain of mothers whose sons pay our price.
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