The war of the worlds had ended and what was left was a world that had been torn apart.
A world that would never be the same.
I was a young man, growing up in this broken world.
I saw all things the war had done.
And I could never understand how we could have done it each other.
How could people have been so cruel?
All the destruction.
All the death.
How could we have done that?
I saw all this.
I saw my parent’s generation lacking a great part of who they once were.
They were lost.
They didn’t have any direction.
I saw all of this and I never knew why it had happened.
I never understood.
I didn’t want to understand why most of my friends didn’t have both of their parents.
I didn’t want to know.
The war of the worlds had ended.
And what was left was a generation that was lost.
One that wasn’t fit to be parents.
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