Boring War

War is a boring thing

Filled with waiting

And cold evenings

Without light and

Heating

Waiting, smoking,

Talking and drinking

Whatever found

On the black market

Money always scarce

A few get rich,

Most people get poor

Everyone would leave

If they only found the

Door

But the war wears on and on

Through rain and sun, storm

and snow people dying all

The time when life could

Be must more benign

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