Half a dozen dead;
all involved wounded.
The battle seemed so diligent
and then quick to be won.
Half a dozen dead;
hearts racing, soon was
All of the romance forgotten--
with just hope to act on.
Half a dozen dead;
that chilled stale syrup
cast out along with memories
so beaut'fully bitter.
Half a dozen dead;
with heads hanging low,
My patience and pride left in vain--
all else to wither.
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