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Corpses, Corpses (poem)
By Tim Bagwell
Can I gouge out my inner eye?
To block the corpses I can't stop seeing?
Am I strong enough to force them gone?
A technique sniper Kyle aimed to force?
War kills and its stench stays and stings forever.
"None of the guilty are killed"...
says White in 'Raid'... "We eat, drink,
vote and read and cannot trace
the graves or name a single murdered child."
Corpses, corpses—charred and dark—reaching ever toward me.