I was a soldier, a young boy no less,
that was led into battle, all blooded, a mess
I feared for my safety, my life I could lose,
without even saying……..”for this I don’t choose”
I came back alive, all battered and torn,
my head all disheveled……” for this I was born?”
My limbs are now aching, my skin it has aged
but inside my heart, my life is encaged
My dreams they are tainted with images of war,
I pull back the blanket and stare at the sore
The bullet pierced me quickly,the pain did not fade,
for I was not created but for war I was made.
I left when I was twenty, to help my fellow man
but came back all empty,
like a discarded tin can.