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TheLostWanderer
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Prose Challenge of the Week #34: Use the following sentence within a piece of poetry or prose. “We all bleed the same.” The winner will be chosen based on a number of criteria, this includes: fire, form, and creative edge. Number of reads, bookmarks, and shares will also be taken into consideration. The winner will receive $100. When sharing to Twitter, please use the hashtag #ProseChallenge
TheLostWanderer

To Remember and React

Weathered historians speak of ancient wars

With piercing swords, sabers, and fallen walls

The crying of families, the weeping of the torn-up earth

As the honorable warriors answer their final, deadly calls

We read those books with a fearsome fascination,

An imagination that drives us wild, crazy inside

We think “How exciting that would have been,

To live in a world where peace is turned away, denied?”

But as we read the newspapers, watch our flickering screens

Our faces turn away in horror as tears well in our eyes

For it seems like there is no good, innocent news anymore

Only stories and reports of evil treachery and lies

What group is to be blamed next, thrown underneath the knife

To be taken out to pasture and labelled the “scapegoat”

For this earth is scared to death of itself

Our minds sing a single song with selfishness as the only note

We see bodies wash up on sandy beaches,

We see small schoolgirls vanish without a trace

We see bombs whistle through the air to fall on cities

We see cold-blooded murders based on race

Wives lose their husbands, children lose their mothers

A teenager crawls away from her burning village somewhere

And while this happens, our food is burning,

So we turn off the news with a quiet, heartfelt swear

Suddenly, when it’s real, when it’s not in dusty old pages

We can’t stand it anymore, can’t stomach it anymore

So we throw up and wish for our pains to leave us ALONE

Wish to forget what is making our fragile hearts ache and sore

Yet in this moment all we can hear is the word “Hate”

Not love, or hope, or help, or kindness

Don’t worry, we’ll be great again, but will that mountain,

That tower we built be built on blindness?

Even though we are all the same type of human

With families, hopes, lovers, and far-fetched dreams

We all bleed the same, and we all die the same

Is that so hard for us to remember?