By Rebecca Boux
Mother told me not to cry
But I flinch when I look to the sky;
I watch it burn with reds and yellows
And whimper when guns go bang.
And daddy told me to silence myself
Unless I wished to be found;
But I cry when I see the blazing sky
And when soldiers pass us by.
Brother held onto my hand
As we sneaked away from safety;
The fires spread and sparked at me
But I kept on walking steadily.
My sister held a raggedy doll
With hair all torn and knotted;
We watched our home being burnt to the ground
But unfortunatly, we were spotted.
I was hearing many cries for help
And seeing things I shouldn’t see;
As I hid in the grass, the soldiers came
And took my family from me.
I did not move for hours
Because it wasn’t worth the while;
For now I am left beside myself
With the burden of being a war child