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Parachutes

They fought hard, those rough and ruthless men.

And died.

They fell from the heavens, down into the fen.



Their lips, they were scathing, their tongues

Cyanide.

With alcohol blood, and smoke in their lungs.



Sergeant Hogan,

Held a gun,

With lilac on his chest.

And with his face,

And eyes erased,

I think that's how he liked it best.

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