Burned House

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The war is never an easy thing

Most of the times

Is not like in movies

Distant void noises

Sounds of gunfire from far away

A shell falling here and there

No water

No electricity

No TV

Maybe a radio

And darkness

from dusk to dawn

The cold, frigid feeling

That eats your bones

The smoke of the fire

The smoke of cheap tobacco

Follows me

As do the stories and candle light

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