The War of Countries
by Jane Chen
We are all created under the same sky.
Molded by the same pair of hands,
our breaths all saturated in the same clouds of air,
the feel of our palms indistinguishable to the blind man.
But the ignorant, shallow eyes of the seeing man do not look past the shade of
he is blinded by his sight
and he categorizes us neatly,
on the clearly labeled shelves of the mind.
Carved from ancient wood,
these shelves have forever separated us,
forcing us to subconsciously repeat
the deeply etched words on the lines of our faces.
Foolishly, we fight,
turning our noses up at our kin,
blinded by our differences.
Trapped by our ancestors' judgmental gazes, we try to resist:
Yet, we are all inevitably drawn
into the war of countries.
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