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Ghost Rider
October 30, 2014
On misty nights,
the solders come out to fight.
Guns in hand,
they kill the man and ride away out of sight.
Horses shrieking and men yelling
While good friends fall and die.
Sometimes you can still hear the sad old men while they cry.
Trumpets singing, liberty ringing.
We wait for tomorrow for this to all start from the beginning.
There will be no forgetting.
© Anonymous
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