Battlefield (Red Baron)

Sorrow for the men I befriend.
while in the sky I say my goodbyes.
Who knows my fate of 21 days, for the Baron wants me head.

I think not of my worries, but the mid-winter flurries that fled 3 nights ago.
I may be alone and on my own, but i’m not dead.
Combat occurs, as the plane starts to stir surely this isn’t the end.

But I am dead.

By: Natasha Richards follow her on http://allpoetry.com/Tashiebooboo 

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