Sitting still in the shadows of memories
Monuments to sons and fathers
Butterflies flit nearby
And birds sing above
How many generations
Have hatched here and taken wing
Since the monuments were dedicated
How many generations
Of men and boys
Have fought and died
Since the blood here
Was washed away
And if so many have come and gone
Why are we still fighting
Some of the same battles?
And when will there be peace?

2013-07-14 14.09.27


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