We've won. We've both won. But also, we
Lost - because we were lost back then.
Your advisors were our parents,
And my advisor was my adamance
Which they labeled "audacity,"
As did you.
But you didn't stay. Didn't stay that way,
With wish-washy stances that were all
Mimicries of Mother's words. You
Changed. Charted a different course
And called off your men,
As did I.
Sorry. Sorry for the sundered crops
And the burning buildings of civilians.
I regret the ashes that flutter from
The sky like snow. Both of us
Are mournful in this grey winter.
Both of us.
We need peace. So we're making peace
Piece by piece, starting with simple bricks
And treaties. Humble reconstruction of
The definition of us, and the truths
That once bound us. Let's begin again,
My sister.
YOU ARE READING
Rose, Prose, Poetry
PuisiExploring topics of love, limerence, grief, and everything in between, this is a collection of 100 poems written over a year. The works both reflect inner emotions and outward connections, attempting to capture the interconnected nature of the worl...
