(DEDICATED TO ALL THOSE MEN WHO FIND THEMSELVES A GLORIOUS DEATH) nibs (30-11-01) Oh lord! I’ve been struck By a bullet, And the feet’s lagging, Suddenly the grasses turned red, Remember the heat Of first bullet, Saw the face of mom, Standing by the door, Tears roll down her ageing cheeks, Sweet memories of her smile, Her warm hands passing by, Withering Palm Just a few steps away, Feet dragging towards it, But never gonna get there.