It’s cold. I’m shaking. It feels like All hope is lost. The battle is over. Get your white flags, And hold them high. We can’t keep losing men, Endlessly enlisting soldiers Until there are no more prospects. We must accept that we have lost the war.
Sara's Original Poems
It’s cold. I’m shaking. It feels like All hope is lost. The battle is over. Get your white flags, And hold them high. We can’t keep losing men, Endlessly enlisting soldiers Until there are no more prospects. We must accept that we have lost the war.