And the farmers marched toward camps, extending
Calloused hands, famished. The townies avoided
Eye contact: raising a standard of Figs at half-mass.
They died in puddles of mud, unmoved
By the sins of mothers and fathers _
A bloody bayonet to mark their son's
Wounded heart.
Calloused hands, famished. The townies avoided
Eye contact: raising a standard of Figs at half-mass.
They died in puddles of mud, unmoved
By the sins of mothers and fathers _
A bloody bayonet to mark their son's
Wounded heart.
