His Eyes were Pale, My son's (RPG13)

Dear, to those who have forgotten us over the seas, those who saw us but then left us..Hear me and hear this you have burned my heart into the shamless shard of your glass...Listen to this:

The battle rages on ranting us all, armed with a snear of greed.
Smashing us down, bullets clashing with the eniemes bombs.
We had no escape...nowhere to turn...

Hearing the hoarse voices going dimmer, we had to run...to die trying.
There was no light but only the flutter of our hearts beating..At least we had a sound.
Something to hear and to hold to, life.

But life was this, seeing everythin in a pit as dark and dranked then our garbage?
childeren cold, weeping and tired, piled up in the streets..you call this hope?
The image of a dead person is something to see..but over hounreds of lifeless bodies of streaming childeren's faces.

odors here drenched with anger, furry we should have been there, should have saved them, but the worst part of this part is this:


Dear father,

My wounds are deep, my pain is real.
This is not where a write a poem to you, but a since of a masacer is here.
They left me here in my own deafeat, runing away as I bleed.

My lungs clink together, nothing can save me now.
Run flee from here, as my pale eyes close.
Please, when you find me...Bury me in a grave.

After that, finally, I may sleep in peace.

To what dear natio have you given me?
Why do I hold this letter so terriably painful for?
His blood on the letters as he writes are clear.

There..there a spot, a drip and a pool.
He was once here young and strong but you shield his head from realaty!
You smashed him into the dirt for he was the one with pale eyes, with only nothing then ash to bury.

...Tell me this is did not make since..Why toture any more?