Children of WarA Poem by MOONAll morning I await my fate I hear guns and the sound of bombs I fear now the hour is late This my friend is not passing storms You no longer shadowy forms But men all black and eyes of hate I fear your anger and power Before you now I shall cower Hold me on this fragile time span Crush me in your blood spattered hand I hold no politics no weight Doomed ideology of State Civil war will take me at eight Shed no tears as I fall in strife Old men play God with this young life Shut windows of your soul spew hate War and ego not a child’s ache Grown men crushing me in their wake © 2013 MOON
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Added on June 14, 2013Last Updated on June 14, 2013 Author
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