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	<title>The Pedestrian Poet &#187; invisible children</title>
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	<description>Everyday a new poem, story, or photo telling the story of humanity</description>
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		<title>Boy Soldier</title>
		<link>http://www.multer.com/people/monica/2009/boy-soldier/</link>
		<comments>http://www.multer.com/people/monica/2009/boy-soldier/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 01 Dec 2009 02:42:50 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>monica</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[boy]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[death]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[fight]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[gun]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[invisible children]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[soldier]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.multer.com/people/monica/?p=1105</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[I wrote this poem in english class today, I think I like it. Not sure where it came from though. The razor runs over the boy’s head He doesn’t move or flinch Just stares ahead into oblivion With deadlocked eyes Into a future of unknown miseries With eyes held firm in a choice He had [...]]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p style="text-align: center;">I wrote this poem in english class today, I think I like it. Not sure where it came from though.</p>
<p style="text-align: center;">
<p style="text-align: center;">The razor runs over the boy’s head<br />
He doesn’t move or flinch<br />
Just stares ahead into oblivion<br />
With deadlocked eyes<br />
Into a future of unknown miseries<br />
With eyes held firm in a choice<br />
He had no part in making<br />
They shave his head<br />
Put a warm gun in his hands<br />
And teach him how to kill<br />
Teach him to steal a life without remorse<br />
They say Learn fast boy<br />
Or get ready to die young<br />
They smack him around<br />
Take the boy’s soft exterior<br />
And turn it into cold hard stone<br />
Rip out his heart and memories<br />
Of a time when safety was a given<br />
And love was always near<br />
Take all that he ever knew<br />
And throw it away<br />
The boy soldier hefts up his gun<br />
His lips sealed and dead eyes<br />
He has nothing left<br />
But the eternal fight for his soul<br />
Everyone runs from him<br />
Like he is a monster<br />
Because he is a monster<br />
One they made him into<br />
Ripped him from his home<br />
And gave him hate<br />
To battle an unknown enemy<br />
There is no escape for him<br />
Just a bloody sentence<br />
That he has no choice but to accept<br />
They label him and fear all like him<br />
And run at the sight of his gun<br />
Run they yell<br />
It is the boy soldier come home again<br />
But he won’t let it continue<br />
As he stands over the body<br />
Of a little girl the same age as him<br />
A bullet in her chest<br />
Blood blooming on her white dress<br />
Like a ruby flower blooming<br />
A bullet he shot from his gun<br />
The tip of the gun digs into the earth<br />
As he falls to his knees beside her<br />
He grips the dusty earth<br />
As he watches the last breathes<br />
Leave the dying angel<br />
Look how far he has fallen<br />
And for what, for whom<br />
No more he swears to the dry earth<br />
No more blood<br />
He turns the gun around<br />
In his rough scarred hands<br />
Covered in dust and blood<br />
They belong to an old man<br />
Not a twelve-year-old boy<br />
He put the gun to his head<br />
And pulled the trigger<br />
That he was taught to pull<br />
One more time<br />
The boy soldier fell<br />
Next to the dead angel girl<br />
There will be no more wars<br />
For this tortured soul<br />
No more rivers of blood<br />
Just the peace he never had<br />
But always deserved</p>
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