He has small hands and short legs
The dictator’s mercy he must beg
Carries a gun and flaunts it out
Even when words don’t come out

He is just taught to ****
Whom so ever he spots ram or bill
He does not know what’s boon or bane
Once by the rebel group his family was slain

Step by step he comes to war
Where his survival is not sure
He does not know what he is doing under freedom’s name
For him it is just a bloodshed game


He took a life and the blood he spill
Now everyday for sleep he needs a pill
He carries a grenade but never pulled the pin
He enjoys their painful din

Now a bullet has pierced his flesh
And now he is in despair and distress
His time has come and he is dead
The vultures would be well fed

Another boy picks his gun
And is on a rampage just for fun