To the Victor Goes the Spoils

The ancient metropolis, now mired in rubble.                                                 Its two million people face torturous trouble.                                                 So many have fled; there’s barely a soul.                                                         Still, armies keep fighting to gain full control.                                               The leaders stand boldly, their brass buttons polished;                                 they covet a city that’s damn near demolished.                                               For five years the bombs have destroyed homes and shops.                           Aleppo has died; still, the war never stops.                                                     -RKO-        #410        09-28-16

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