Artillery flies.

I grab my brothers hand

Though born on separate sides of the country,

We shared similar traits-

Before the war.

Now, we are simply defenders of democracy

Or rather,

Pawns in a rich

Mans game of chess

My brothers hand trembles

I lay another hand on his

Don’t worry, I say-

We’ll be home in no time

The pee wee football games

Apple pie

And i’ll be singing lullabies

To my youngest

She still sleeps

With the light on.

The war is over!

I can see our celebratory fireworks

Flashing rays of brilliance

The bursts are reminiscent of the Fourth of July

Another war, where we

Killed others

For a title

At length, a noise

A trembling noise-

A cry of humanity.

The ringing in my ears

Blur the line between murder

And democracy.

I feel my brothers hand in mine no longer.