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In fields of clover we decided
Where our future home would be
In fields of clover we laid down
And you gave yourself to me
War called and I could not serve
So you chose to join the fight
I wrote you passionate letters
Each and every night
Then one day a letter came to say
That you'd been killed by an IED
I screamed out in pain
That they might as well kill me
In those same fields of clover I marked
Where your body will forever reside
Those fields of clover have been watered
By the tears that I have cried.
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Author Notes
This is a work of fiction, dedicated to all who have had their lives altered by the fortunes of war. I wrote this from the perspective of a man who for whatever reason could not serve so his lady love went instead. For the uninitiated an IED is an Improvised Explosive Device, often used in the Middle East conflict. Much thanks to kmmalone13 for the great artwork: Searching For Luck.
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nomi338
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nomi338
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