A Late Casualty

If you should wander down by the strand
And find me cradled in my bed of sand
A broken body that is mine no more
Discarded waste upon the shore

Please do not disturb my slumber
Please, I beg you, do not encumber

Six days I’ve lain, left for dead
Three bullets lodged within my head
Leave me as you found me lying
In a coma, gently dying.

by Peter Lengyel

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