Arms and the Boy

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Our truce was a few months after Christmas but
We had surrendered in all white just the same.
I like to think, instead of a cease fire we had raised each other
Up to be baptized.
Rebirthed on the land that had always felt cautionary
And running across the lines drawn in the dirt to trade
Whatever we could. Whatever we still owned after leaving home
With nothing but ourselves and even then...

We made no man's land our paradise.

But years of exchange has made
All the lines disappear. Now, our inhibitions feel far like a dream-
But there is still war. Whether or not we chose to fight it,
The guns are still going off in gusts around us.
We still belong to opposite sides and I don't think that will ever change.

Arms and The Boy

Author's Note
And we're back! This poem is actually inspired by the poem of the same name by Wilfred Owen. Owen was one of the first poets I read when I started taking poetry seriously and there's a lot of allusion to his life and work here. My little way of paying back the impact his work had on me.

This weeks dedication goes to @ToniMel for going off in the comments as usual. I see you and I appreciate you thank you so much! If you want to be dedicated next week, you know the drill! Vote and comment! See y'all next Friday!

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