War's young Soldiers

March 9, 2008
By Noor Brara, New Delhi, WY

Evil is the edge that cuts the human heart in two,
Two sides, one nation, its souls black and blue.
For what is the currency of a soldier's blood, day by day?
A few pesos, a few pennies; all in a month's pay.

Hands of children hold these weapons, though it looks wrong,
Death will make them men, grief will make them strong.

Explosions bang across the skies, their eyes hold many fears,
The clothes they wear are creased with pain, they wipe away the tears.
Dealers of bullet and disease, twin conspirators in disguise,
Shut away the war,cover up your eyes.

Through the madness and horror; rich against the poor,
The glory lies in knowing there are things worth fighting for.

On the carpet of the dead, drenched with tears turned to rain,
Focus on the shining light you'll soon see again.

Let your courage and will propel you to see, my little child.
Let your your spirit take flight, let your anger make you wild.

With strength, valor,bravery and poise
Hold your heart up high, away from war's noise.

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