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Poem: Comrade24 January 1996
When you saw me lying wounded On the battlefield of life, You swore you would carry me Until we both made it to safety. Somewhere on that road, My blood soaked your shirt And heart and soul.
In return you told me of your hopes, And dreams -- and fears Of trying to remain ordinary In an extraordinary age. I hope next time they crucify you It's me who will extract the nails, Take you down off the cross And wash you with wine of simple human solidarity. ... Alex Middleton 
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