Kori extra blog

I officially hate uniforms. I hate them with every weak fiber in my body, and every oz of little blood left in my limp veins. I don't have a uniform. My red coat that stood for my pride and my hunger for freedom, so much that I accepted being hungry to achieve freedom. But it ripped and stained and is now a rag, it was thrown in the river like the rest of the soldiers who's where demolished. A piece of my bravery went down with it and now I wear a layer of cowardice ness along with my everyday clothes. I wear rags into battle. The union wears crisp fine blue coats- every button in line. I don't know why but seeing that makes me so mad. Sometimes I wish I was part of the union maybe then I could wear my bravery again. But then my soul fights back at that discussing thought my brain wanted. I hate the union, I hate there uniforms because it shows what's going to come of the war. But George Washington lead the rebels into war and led them out with a victory agents the British. I will lead with my head high and walk out with it higher. I can't back down as I'm so far in this war.

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