Poem · War poetryIn bombers named for girls, we burned The cities we had learned about in school- Till our lives wore out; our bodies lay among The people we had killed and never seen. When we lasted long enough they gave us medals; When we died they said, "Our casualties were low."Randall Jarrell1948★ 3.4
To be a slave was to be a human being under conditions in which that humanity was denied. They were not slaves. They were people. Their condition was slavery.Julius LesterTo Be a Slave · 1968★ 2.6
skopiaskopia