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War Games

Eager and Naïve, anxious to go outside
The boy hardly can notice his shoes are untied
Snack time is coming to an end
So eager, so ready to play with a friend
The doors opens, and he bolts out
With a burst of energy he lets out a shout.

He sees his friend across the field
It’s a machine gun he appears to wield
As the boy realizes this is strategic assault
He runs to cover and slides to a halt.
Peering over from his hiding place
He sees the objective he spots the base

He peeks out once more from around the tree
Its trunk hides him so no one will see
As he looks out near the slides
His friend is shot and deliberately dies.
To the boy, the way to win is revealed
When he thinks of flanking the sandbox minefield

He runs like lightening to the mid-way ditch
That’s when the tide of the battle begins to switch.
From there the boy viciously opens fire
On his pals past the unseen barbwire.
Now he runs right up the ramp,
Of the 1st grade military camp.

Joes dead, Bens Dead, Marks dead too!
Look at the massacre! What he slew!
What! Where? Is that the bell!
The hour is over, but all is swell.
His friends get up giggling at the sight,
Of the result of this brutal fight.
The boy is saluted and given a crown,
For being the hero of this war playground.




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