without mercy with the news.
stale
reels
of footage,
the same dead horse
on the road,
the same
bomb going off.
the same
crossing of the bridge,
of someone
eating
a biscuit in a bunker.
so much filler while
the war
plows on.
i've seen the same person
die
a hundred times now.
all these peacocks
at the desk
in suits,
putting on the show.
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