How useless men feel
when they no longer have
something to save,
or to kill
so they make sure
they shoot a horror movie,
only that it is real.
They make sure
Some bags never return their homes,
Only that their lessons shake the earth up.
They make sure
Some hundreds eyes never get dry,
Only with the tears of the deepest grief.
They make sure
Some photographs bleed,
Only that they never
stop to do so.
They make sure
Some babies sleep under the ground,
Only in the name of god.
How senseless
it is to call them men.
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