Poems of Peace: McLord Selasi, "Armistice"

Armistice

At eleven, I believed that wars could end

with handshakes and the signing of a name,

that enemies might simply choose to mend

their differences and walk away from blame.

The playground battles taught me how to fight—

mock victories with sticks for rifles held

by boys who charged into the fading light

where no one truly conquered or was felled.

But history books revealed the deeper cost:

the mothers counting sons who won’t return,

the cities burned, the innocence we’ve lost,

the scars that in our collective memory burn.

Still, August mornings whisper of release:

The earth endures. A child dreams of peace.