I look into your eyes
And I think I see the sun
The peace
Yet a storm is brimming
Right under the surface.
Maybe there is more
Than you expect
Behind respecting values
Of peace
And no war
Maybe dropping acid
And not bomb
Is just reminding us
That many suffered before
Their parents suffered
They knew of wars
They were forced upon them
And they couldn’t tune out
Figure it out.
Young minds
Are more impressionable
Than their parents think
Late nights
Trying to remember
How it is possible that
The art of losing isn’t hard to master
Where parents get observed
By innocent eyes
Without knowing
The wondrous things
In store
For future times.

Poem by: Isabella Stanich

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