Graves of The Common People
Location
Engraved on the same type of stone
Lime.
Unripe, despite its color
Sour, acidic, bitter—
Frantic, in disarray
While guns blaze
One side of death
The next, technological advance—
We wage war
With self,
We want,
We lack,
We claw,
We scratch.
For a season…
I pledge allegiance—