Sommer Nichols Poet I do not know?

This Was War

January 14th,
1984.
rational thought, lost.
This, was war.
The battle of the sexes,
had gone on long enough.
Chivalry rose again,
and finally their time was up.
Weapons were gathered, 
allies were made.
Treaties were signed,
battle dues, paid.
“leave the government out of it.
It's not their duty to oversee.
This is our territory to win back,
give it.” “make me.”
and with those words, the dirt would fly.
This, was our fate.
Hair was ripped, names were called,
but the war, was stalemate.
Because with one last pinch,
the bell rang, I looked over at the men.
Lucky for them, recess was over.
But tomorrow, we meet again.

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