I can't write a movie review, so let's write a poem from the perspective of a fighter jet. I'm a flying coffin rushing off the runway through the grass past the clouds Floating in the endless pale blue sky Death wandering in front of me, behind, above and below, 360 degrees around me, white clouds I don't know if it's white or pale I send out I don't know if it's a war song or a dirge. I don't know where I'll be in the next second, or I'll be hit by anti-aircraft guns, or hit by enemy planes, or smashed by enemy planes, or fly away, and I'll collapse. I may never return. It's possible to go and come back no matter how it ends I have to keep going it's my mission and my destiny If I fall to pieces in mid-air burn a stick of incense and please be nice to every fighter pilot around them who are The most heroic passenger in every flying coffin
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