The Unfairness Of Angels

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 As men drop like stones
Skimming pebbles on shallow water
Never going the full distance
Dropping into the depths of slaughter
A memory in an instance
Grey days on a cold blushed cheek
Standing by the river banks
If only seasons cared to speak
And give passing thanks
But life which our fathers know
Are just stories told at night
Off to War they go
Where boys are banned to fight
So cast your pebbles far today
As Bullets others face
Our fathers lay far away
In dreams we seem to chase.



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