Growth
War is what people think of when looking over a battle field
Flowers wilted
Sky Grey
Bodies littering the ground
Like paper
Thrown out and forgotten
Waiting to decay
When people think of war
They think of
Death
Soldiers
Blood
Guns
What they do not think of
Is the flowers reappearing
Growing and meaning
Something to someone somewhere
It may not be fair
But I hope these flowers continue to grow
This poem is about:
My country
Our world