At a time of peace we forget,

forget time and time again.

Of how hard it was to obtain,

this fragile little piece of time.

The time after guns were honed,

after the knives were sharpened.

To inflict the most damage possible,

to fight through every obstacle.

Sons and daughters were separated from mothers.

Brothers killed brothers, sisters killed sisters.

Countrymen and countrywomen were torn from their countries.

Citizens killed foreigners, foreigners killed citizens.

We forget, we forget, we forget.

We don’t just stand where those fighters were,

we stand above them, on the shoulders of giants.

Those who fought against tyranny,

those who fought against oppression,

those who fought against darkness.

As a world it never seemed like we got to grieve.

Not for those who were lost on our own sides,

but in the chance of sounding young and naive

to grieve together for those who fought for us.

Grandparents fought for their grandchildren.

Parents fought for their children.

Children fought for those who couldn’t protect themselves.

Whether they know it or not they fought for us.


A Parallel Universe

In a parallel universe,

everything is perfect.

No pain, no suffering,

no hurt, no hungering.

In a parallel universe,

everyone loves one another.

No rage, no fighting,

no pride, no disagreeing.

In a parallel universe is:

A curse where we do not grow,

A curse where we do not develop.

In our universe,

we are imperfect.

We have pain, we have suffering.

We have hurt, we have hungering.

In our universe,

everyone does not get along.

We have rage, we have fighting.

We have pride, we have disagreeing.

This universe,

we take for granted.

We might suffer and hurt,

to at some point to heal and be healed.

We might fight one another,

to at some point to forgive and be forgiven.

We don’t live in a parallel universe,

we share this one.