War
If only you knew
the war Iāve been fighting.
If only you knew
the pain Iāve been writing.
Starting the war,
my hands started shaking,
I looked at the enemy,
and my heart started breaking.
Bombs exploded
everywhere but my heart.
It was the enemy,
who himself broke it apart.
The shooting didnāt cease
but didnāt hurt any soldiers.
The enemy held his head high,
and walked with human boulders.
With a step in front of
my hunched little frame,
I noticed his eyes and his grin,
I noticed how he might not be to blame.
His eyes are there,
but not active.
His grin is there,
but seems held captive.
I never was shot,
but, instead, was tortured.
The enemy didnāt notice,
he kept moving forward.
I hope he turned back.
I know he didnāt mean to.
I hope he realizes I couldāve helped.
I know heāll wonder and pursue.
The war fought on,
but nobody else was injured.
And, yet, the enemy
seemed to fall inward.
I know the enemy didnāt mean to,
he seemed to be controlled.
But, I know the enemy is you.
_And you broke my heart._