A poem for the ones who wanted peace but could not speak

As death stuck to our bare skin, like dirt on a humid day we learned to spell peace, we learned to spell love, we learned to spell unity, o how we wish, we had nothing to regret o how we begged to forget o how we wish, we could bring back the gone, to a safe house with a bed to sleep and not a grave to rest in peace – Kaya Continue reading A poem for the ones who wanted peace but could not speak