White.

Red.

Blue.

Mere colors.

Familiar, comforting.

Foreign, terrifying.

White for the long forgotten peace.

Red for the reluctant bloodshed.

Blue for the suffocating sorrow.

They saw them all.

They experienced them all.

They felt them all.

Pain was pushed aside, unimportant. Soldiers kept marching on.

What were they, if not soldiers?

Pawned in a game of truth and lies, of hurt and relief.

They bore through it.

It was all a game, always.

What were they, if not toy soldiers in it?

I DON'T KNOW WHAT THIS IS I'M IN A DEPRESSING MOOD THANKS TO GUTTERS-