Picture Five

it was not long ago
we wore the crown of thorns
that still hurts the trenches of our hearts.
it was not long ago,
our children’s tears wouldn’t dry;
because these clouds are the same,
holding the ground to ransom,
the blood these fathers share.
it was not long ago
they fed us into their page,
we drew lines, they drew bullet holes
through our stomachs,
through our helmets
through the same flag
that was once a blanket.

Ruddapoet