There seemed to be a time
before the battle lines were drawn
there was a bit more of us in them
and them in us
and we roamed freely
or blithely amongst them
it could be the fog of nostalgia
maybe war was always being waged
we wandered through trenches
thinking chlorine gas was mist
and mortars were fireworks
does the war never end
or do we have to win or lose
to go back?
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