Paper Soldiers

Too Young It was war Blood and gore One by one they lined up and took their designated places They stood across from one another with their war faces. Battles are dark I wear the mark The General yelled for ammunition Loaded and released without hesitation His aim is sure But less than pure The wounded are removed from the field Both sides are determined and neither yield Young Teenage boys Playing with toys One side will win this hard fought battle Bodies will fall and treated like cattle Children maimed No one blamed The winners get one point for their effort But both teams leave covered in dirt Except for one youngster Decides he’s no soldier Even in the worse of instincts lays hope Not every man smokes violence like dope Our folly continues With few breakthroughs Playing high school football can be futile So many young boys lie on a broken pile That is the crime Cut in their prime One boy will be forever called ‘wimp’ As he bravely leaves with a life long limp Just like war Blood and gore ... Armand Hamouth