Something isn't right.
There's a smoky overlay across the room.
It stretches across the sky and gathers in the corners.
It blankets the buildings and suffocates the trees.
I'm used to seeing Old Glory on every building.
But now she screams for help.
I got used to the sound of constant gunfire,
It went from being startling to reassuring.
Now the people turn on each other,
And a sociopath has been handed a red button.
Most people don't realize,
Nobody wishes more for peace than those who fight the war.