SometimesThe ChapterEnds WhenYou Close TheBook

it’s so peaceful here… after the war has faded back into the walls the ghost are growing fainter… each year a nail in the coffin of what has happened here… the stones are growing faded the vegetation overcoming what hours of talking never could… peace talks are nothing… as the open arms of moving on and letting go… not forgetting… never forgotten… but not so close… not still bleeding… tourniquet above my head… scars not to be reopened… graves best left
shut.

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