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it's a sham and a mockery of a sham

@smallredplanet / smallredplanet.tumblr.com

My father slept with a gun under his pillow. There was no pill for his sickness, no medicine to ease his mind. He left blood and sweat and part of his soul in a foreign land. My father never talked to me about the war he fought. He never talked to anyone. Ever vigilant, ever silent. I never thought I’d follow in his footsteps.