by Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
They ask me where I've been,
And what I've done and seen.
But what can I reply
Who know it wasn't I,
But someone just like me,
Who went across the sea
And with my head and hands
Killed men in foreign lands...
Though I must bear the blame,
Because he bore my name.
Tuesday, November 11, 2014
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Labels: disharmony, identity, poetry, war
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