The Battlefield

I was a soldier whose name was not known
I walked onto the battlefield, where no man roamed.
I looked out to see what else existed.
And I saw another who stood alone.

We had both been brought here by nation's pride.
I looked at him.
He looked at me.
I was him
And he was me.

We drew our weapons, our sacred guns.
We sighted each other, with undying love.
I shot first.
Then he shot me.
The bullets flew right through the air.
Then through us, standing out there.

We fell into the mud.
And the nations laughed.
We sat there dead.
I was him.
And he was me.

This poem is about: 
Our world
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