Not All, But Many

Broken, yet still standing.

War torn, half is gone.

We cannot see our loved ones,

And yet the fight goes on.


We sit, we watch, we wait and then,

With the flurry of a gun,

We stand, we sob, we pick up the pieces,

Our numbers less-by-one.


The friends, the family, the ones we miss,

Those we carry home,

Those who understand, or not,

May end up on their own.


Look for them, the only,

The ones who sacrifice for you,

Remember every loss, the pain,

Of the many and the few.

The End

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