War Child

Sad of eye and small in stance

She never really stood a chance

As close beside a bullet screams

And steals away another dream

She doesn’t stop, she cannot stay 

Another loss - Another day

Afraid to think, she must not feel

Her world so cruel, seems less than real

A child in war torn, troubled times

Knows not the peace that’s yours and mine

But lives in dread and constant fear

For those she loves and holds so dear

With bleeding feet and throat all parched

She journeys on her poignant march

‘Tward freedom’s promised sanctuary

From capture by the enemy

So daily, she must hide – or walk

No time to cry, no will to talk

In ragged clothes, with matted hair

Her broken heart beats in despair

An orphan in a warring land

With no one left to hold her hand

Or hold her close and tell her why

A loving mother had to die

A little soul against the world

Her mother’s joy - Her daddy’s girl

Man’s future hope, alone, and lost

Her stunted life - Our shameful cost

Copyright  Gabrielle P Burt