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Poem
As the dust burns my weary eyes
I push on and compromise 

Looking for a long lost dream 
Of swimming through the waters clean

Bombs echoing in the distance
Dead and gone in an instance

Praying to god for every breath
A candle lit for every death

It is here I sit all alone 
A heart that burns turns to stone

A concert of horror ringing clear
I run and hide all in fear

I steal and lie to survive 
Of my family I am the only life

Oh! Please set me free
My wish repeated instantly!

In my mind all is rage 
I feel locked up in a cage

When will this nightmare end?
A stray bull dog my only friend

During the nights we stay warm
We help each other through the storms

Our night lights, are burst from your guns
The politicians say we are the ones

The ones who kill day to day
For when I grow up they will pay

My train of thought, pains me now and then
When I know war is a means to an end

Sometimes I try to escape
But I was turned in for a stay

Slaving for the men of war
Sometimes a cook, sometimes a whore

Oh! Please set me free
My wish repeated instantly

I have to kill to get away
I can no longer bear the pain 

My knife slides across their throats
I’m caked in blood that coat’s

Before I could run I heard screaming
I continued my work while the tears were streaming

In a way I am glad I was caught
Now I can join that heavenly lot!

My hound of war was first feed to me
Then I was beat to subdue me!

Almost to the point of certain death
But they tortured my every breath

They kept me breathing for the rope.
They slung my body from the post

I choked and kicked all I could
While the others just watched from where the stood

Before I lost my failing senses 
I prayed to god just to end this

At that moment my prayers were sealed
A boy in the crowd revealed his steel

A rip of pain through the chest
The bullet entered and did its best

For a few days my body was displayed
For those under slavery to see who disobeyed 

After a few days my body was searched
Only a small diary was all the thieves could perch

Meaningless thoughts were rattled out of rhyme
A small short story of the life that was my time

Beckoning to those that are still at war
Freedom is a bullet wound for the soul to finally soar.

Oh! Please set me free
My wish repeated instantly.

That same boy who ended all this pain 
They ended him his efforts never vain
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