Army life
At the time of
holding pen,
I was with gun.
Sleeping in
forest, hiding inside den.
No it was no way
any fun.
I was changing
bullet.
Blood was only
color, no idea about green or pink.
No I never had
wallet.
At the time of
wearing school tie,
I was with combat
dress.
Every part of our
body was in risk, be that nose or eye.
After all, we
fought for country.
I fought for
country!
And now there is
no change,
They grew rich
busy and fat.
We were all kept
in same range.
When they grew to
fox, we were still rat!
2 comments:
Sounds like a child soldier's story to me.
:)
Thank you for the comment... Anyway, I accept I dont write poems nice, I will always remain at the child's stage!
:)
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