I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead
to wake him as I always did
stroking his skin, whispering
“It’s time for school.”
Always he awoke with smiling eyes
looking into mine.
It never failed, even as a Cadet
He does not stir.
He lies beneath
the earth divided by brutal borders.
Doomed to die before he could live.
Tell me why?
Why nurse him, nurture him,
Why give him life at all?
Today’s Napowrimo challenge was to write a poem that ended on a question. My question asks what is the point of war? When will it stop?