I met a warrior the day I was born.

Nourishment sautéed with onion eyes, dripping within.

Pomegranate heart encased love arils—

Small bursts yet the whole remains intact.

Finger swords playing out stories and thoughts,

capturing pleasure by secretly warding off hurt.

I never knew then, how did you keep our mouths clean?

I met a warrior the day I was born.

Innocent need grabbing onto books handed down—



at a time.

Our brains a palate for compassion and strength.

Paper-thin green and nameless burning men,

The dollar held nothing, but I couldn’t know that then.

How did you earn two degrees? 

I met a warrior the day I was born.

She protected by a look, by a tone, by a wingspan of daring care.

She died for us so many times, blocking weather and fear alike.

She turned time into a selfless gift, shifting its meaning to three young lives to live for…

Still, I wonder, how did you keep the roof?

I met a warrior the day I was born,

And a lifetime later, I am in awe of her conquered armies. 

To all the warriors out there, soldier on! 

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