This Is About War

World War I lasted four years.

For four years, families lost sons, brothers, fathers.

There was hunger. There was grief.

There were graves.

World War II lasted six years.

Six years of killing.

Six years of cities destroyed.

Six years of mourning that did not stop when the fighting stopped.

This poem is about the fear

that a third world war has already begun.

It did not begin with a single explosion.

It did not begin with an official declaration.

It began with corruption in governments.

It began with the rise of fascism.

It began with terrorism spreading across countries.

It began with leaders who lie to their people.

It began slowly, through policy decisions,

through power grabs,

through attacks on democratic institutions.

People feel threatened.

People feel unsafe.

Communities feel divided.

This poem is not using symbols.

It is saying directly that many of us believe

the world is moving toward large-scale conflict again.

The concern is simple:

we are watching instability grow.

We are watching rights erode.

We are watching violence increase.

The central concern is that we may already be living

in the early stages of another global war.

Our lives feel uncertain.

Our plans feel suspended.

Our sense of security is weakened.

This poem is about that fear.

It is about the belief that history is repeating itself.

It is about the worry that we are not prepared.

It is about the feeling that the world is standing at a breaking point.

And it is about the question

of whether we will stop this

before it becomes another war

measured in years of mourning.