I wrote this poem in english class today, I think I like it. Not sure where it came from though.<\/p>\n
\n
The razor runs over the boy\u2019s head
\nHe doesn\u2019t move or flinch
\nJust stares ahead into oblivion
\nWith deadlocked eyes
\nInto a future of unknown miseries
\nWith eyes held firm in a choice
\nHe had no part in making
\nThey shave his head
\nPut a warm gun in his hands
\nAnd teach him how to kill
\nTeach him to steal a life without remorse
\nThey say Learn fast boy
\nOr get ready to die young
\nThey smack him around
\nTake the boy\u2019s soft exterior
\nAnd turn it into cold hard stone
\nRip out his heart and memories
\nOf a time when safety was a given
\nAnd love was always near
\nTake all that he ever knew
\nAnd throw it away
\nThe boy soldier hefts up his gun
\nHis lips sealed and dead eyes
\nHe has nothing left
\nBut the eternal fight for his soul
\nEveryone runs from him
\nLike he is a monster
\nBecause he is a monster
\nOne they made him into
\nRipped him from his home
\nAnd gave him hate
\nTo battle an unknown enemy
\nThere is no escape for him
\nJust a bloody sentence
\nThat he has no choice but to accept
\nThey label him and fear all like him
\nAnd run at the sight of his gun
\nRun they yell
\nIt is the boy soldier come home again
\nBut he won\u2019t let it continue
\nAs he stands over the body
\nOf a little girl the same age as him
\nA bullet in her chest
\nBlood blooming on her white dress
\nLike a ruby flower blooming
\nA bullet he shot from his gun
\nThe tip of the gun digs into the earth
\nAs he falls to his knees beside her
\nHe grips the dusty earth
\nAs he watches the last breathes
\nLeave the dying angel
\nLook how far he has fallen
\nAnd for what, for whom
\nNo more he swears to the dry earth
\nNo more blood
\nHe turns the gun around
\nIn his rough scarred hands
\nCovered in dust and blood
\nThey belong to an old man
\nNot a twelve-year-old boy
\nHe put the gun to his head
\nAnd pulled the trigger
\nThat he was taught to pull
\nOne more time
\nThe boy soldier fell
\nNext to the dead angel girl
\nThere will be no more wars
\nFor this tortured soul
\nNo more rivers of blood
\nJust the peace he never had
\nBut always deserved<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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\u2019s head He doesn\u2019t 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 […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[541,118,544,497,543,542],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1105"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1105"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1105\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2610,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1105\/revisions\/2610"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1105"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1105"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.multer.com\/people\/monica\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1105"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}