Your polished surface deceives.
You appear serene, yet you are bursting with anguish and lost potential.
You are a wall of great sadness.
You remember the young, whose lives were engulfed in the flames of war.
They wanted to live and love, but the cruel war stopped them.
They had lives before the lies of their leaders took them to war.
Their mistake was to trust.
And they never returned to their loved ones.
Wall, their names are carved into you.
Their hearts flutter around you.
These young who died are sentinels, warning of danger,
Reminding us that war is a fool’s game,
A game in which everyone loses,
Except for the arms merchants.
Wall, you reflect war’s human price.
Let the old and gray pay the price, if they must.
But youth, be wary of war.
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