Without a War

There was a suicide bomb downtown at dawn, a swan song for morning commutes, when legion of youth used brute force to refute their mentors and causes that killed compatriots.

Hours later, another
explosion ripped
through the districts,
levelling a landmark and
fifty lives with it.

Leaders livid,
declarations of division no handshake or
cutting of ribbons can cure.

This is our story, our conundrum, our petition, and not for all the riches in world would we recant our position at the center of your storm.

They called us
a generation without its war;
it took this long
to realize not so
many futures are
worth pursuing

anymore.

So why
should we
still foster yours?

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