Quite unexpectedly, this has turned into a two-post day. I didn't know a poem was coming until I felt the labor pains at breakfast.
In that decades-long conflict,
my war for independence,
undocumented by any but
the most specialized historian,
I sought to cast off your control
for you claimed me as a colony
and both plundered my resources
and traded on my talents
in furtherance of what you intended
to be absolute monarchy.
In my guerilla campaign for freedom,
I exposed the traitorous spies
who had infiltrated my conscience
and dug out the shame and rejection
you had buried in my psyche,
turning that private and should-be sacred ground
into a minefield.
Much of the field has been long-since cleared
and wildflowers bloom there once again
but occasionally, even now,
I take one false step
and trigger a land mine