BEING CREATIVE – 3

BOY SOLDIER

Four feet tall, bold to the core

Bones peaking, olive drab he wore

His limbs weary. feet they are sore

Undaunted he stands

Here to do what he was recruited for

His life, Our war !

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Numerous like him, numerous to mourn

he is a soldier made and not born

robbed of the youth that jewels adorned

By day; audacious, night’s forlorn

Choices not offered, decisions forgone !

March soldier , Duty calls

Decision is in ones hand, hands stall

But believe you me, hands will still

Killed, he has, kill , he will

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Outside calm , inside he screams

Ashes to Ashes , Dust to Dust

Soldier I am, therefore I must !

Now..

Now black like his soul, the memories

Purple; the skin, the body

Red likes the way they treat him

Yellow; the way he burns !

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BUT…

But later a day will come

he will be done and puts down the gun

The darkness, it will talk

The shadows, they will stalk

The fear, mock !

But smile

Smile because at last he can soar !

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—– Written by : ME

—-ORIGINAL