Ernesto P. Santiago Poet Sonnet

Child Soldier

Yesterday, I saw my buddy, he was with his daddy
On their yard, together happily playing, the rugby
While I stood near at the iron gate, I heard his father
Telling him, of his love and belief, that he should gather

My admiration goes for his father, in him, he’s laid
Brave boys, don’t cry, it is only a girlish thing, he said
I envy my friend of his time with his father, they talked
And having great time, of being together, so I walked

Out, from the scene, without disturbing their family time
While inside me, hate’s mustering, for my own has no rhyme 
Today, when I saw my friend, like dried meat, in his coffin
I thought his father have lived with conscience, for his own teen

My old buddy had an intriguing hole, on his forehead
He was only 12 years old, and now, tears for him I shed

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