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A poem dedicated to my father (Sergeant Harold B. Kaufman, Jr.) and his life experiences.
There is nothing more tragic than to find an individual bogged down in the length of life, devoid of breadth. Martin Luther King, Jr. Besides,
TWO DEAD … “soldiers are gunning us down” Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young Speak through ripples/waves In marrow they rise Dried blood the language of