After they leave, the soldiers come. Shooting everything in sight. I'm hidden, of course but now I don't want to be. My will to live has faded, the last of whom I loved have died. Maybe, just maybe, i will leave too. I could find a place- a deserted island, take my things that I have little of . I could live off the fish. I could survive on my own, get close too no one, feel no grief. Maybe one day, but not today. I will be strong for my country, for others like me.
