No Tonka, no Barbie,
No Monopoly game.
Just a pack on my back.
The rest have the same.

We start at age three.
Continue 'til death.
I know I'll have work,
As long as I've breath.

Our families need money.
We're the poorest of poor.
All our older brothers,
Are dead from the war.

From sunup to sunrise,
I carry my pack.
I try to walk fast,
Just in case we're attacked.

I'd complain of my plight,
But who would I tell?
All of my friends
Share the same Hell.

I've heard of a place,
Where kids get to play.
I hope from deep down,
I'll see it some day.

But likely as not,
My kids just as I,
Will carry these packs
'Til the day that we die.