My heart feels like a battle ground.
Torn, burned, patched, shot.
Like the mud underfoot,
Squished and trampled,
Ignored and unattended.
My heart feels like a battle ground,
Where friendly fire has turned sour.
And all I see is smoke,
As it encompasses me,
Choking me.
My heart feels like a battle ground,
Where the war has already been lost.
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