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Desert Storm was where I was born,
the bombs, the guns, the peoples skin torn
there horrible dreams of dying today
I'm 14 I act the same way, the fear the hope the
exacerbating anxiety of both, I lifted my body,
I tried to run, the sand is blowing, I should be done
why am alive I just took a bullet for my son
but yet I fell no pain, why ain't I dead, my life flashes once again before my eyes, I drop to my knees & begin to cry, I closed my eyes & rest my head, to find out I have died in my bed
Now I can finally say "it's all a dream or so it seems".