The War Zone

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The War Zone
It’s 2 p.m., and it’s complete anarchy.

Veteran kids throw paper wads
like they are launching
missiles at enemies,
determined to destroy their defenses.

Suddenly Tiny Tim the Tank takes a paper airplane to the eye.
We drag him back behind a bus seat,
securing his safety.
They don’t care about the innocent bystanders.

I try to avoid the battle,
avoid being wounded,
avoid being seen.
I just want to get home—
back to my base.





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