Sickness

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You requested me so here I am,

Waiting instruction, gun in hand.

Nations intruding all over our land.

Water the desert, drown us in sand.

Freedom only a heartbeat away,

A war demanding all that is ours today.

I may be a child, but you don’t really care,

Call me a man, I am prepared.

I will take the bullet to save your sweet home.

I will carry that burden all on my own.

While you sleep safely at home in your bed,

I fight for your comfort, I could be dead.

We will win this fight, of that I am sure,

But war is a sickness for which there is no cure.

*Written by Aimee Wahl – Excerpt from Give Me A Moment, I’ll Give You a Life*

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