Toy Soldiers

Bullets gathered at our eyes,

raining down from the heavens.

Either dance with them

or succumb to them.

The shrapnel tore through our bodies and our lives.

We waded past the hurt,

Holding guns instead of jump ropes and jacks,

like toy soldiers.

Standing in rows like paper dolls

stranded together

as though united we were unbreakable .

Yet a little water would do more

then scratch the surface of our destruction.

There were no lullabies only songs of,

“One day they will bury me and hopefully my family will know."

Many of us children
still crying at night.
Too young to understand the true meaning

of what we are faced with.

Filled with anger and resentment.

Never to know the true meaning of a smile.

Though some of us still try.

I'm rather ambivalent.

I haven't forgotten

I unlike the rest,

still remember a time of laughter...