She Walks

she walks still ay night.
She walks in the day and in the evening
she walks till her shoes are worn out.
she walks fast and stunningley
she walks and jumps like a dove.
she is the dancer
she is soring to success.
she is the dancer at night and day
she is the dancer of heart and soul
she is the dancer
she is the dancer

by Chris Grover

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Comments (11)

This poem carries the weight of truth from the weight of war. Something many can identify with. I like how he breaks his phrases with dashes, as if trying to explain/justify killing someone he might have enjoyed. War is what justifies it, but it's another matter to condone it.
rule of the west......
as if he's more or less than a man when he goes to war
The tragedy and futility of war, having to shoot at (and in this case kill) someone who could otherwise have been a friend. Heartbreaking.
I see two halves of the same man firing shots at each other..and the futility of it all.
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