We stood on worn terrain
happily united enjoying the view
Until they appeared
with their flag and their ways,
talking of us and them
as if it were distinction true.
And by virtue of this,
a crude border in chalk they drew.
This splitting of our standing
left us unsettled,
for they were like us
but them and us;
standing divided, who knew?
YOU ARE READING
Forgotten Children
Não FicçãoA collection of poems, and accounts from the children of our world growing up with war
