The toy soldiers
are assembling,
tiny guns
held tight to their chests.
Shining medals are
dangling
from their low-hanging necks.
They go home,
but not as heroes,
instead as forgotten men.
Their spirits now are broken,
their bodies in no better shape.
They come home to a country
in worse shape than
when they had left.
They pray to their god
for redemption,
and forgiveness for their sins.
Now they feel the pity
and shame
for what
they have done.
Sleeplessness now haunts them,
for their dreams do terrify,
reminders from their battles
that were fought only in their mind.
Fought only in their mind.
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