W A R

Five little boys stood, heads erect, and faced what was to come.
With but a bit of bravery, cowardice might overcome.

They knew though they should carry on, it all would be in vain,
For battles never end out well, they die out in the rain.

Five little boys glanced at the sun and knew that dawn was near.
Four of them went on but one fell down on knees in fear.

Though the four tried not they thought of home. The house upon the hill,
All filled with anxious family, they fought against their will.

Four little boys marched on in rows of two and two as they
Tried unsuccessfully to hide the wish that they could stay.

For this small group could not disguise their fear from foreign ranks,
But they walked on courageously 'cross hills and over banks.

As enemy fired, two little boys were vanquished from the group.
The duo left kept stomping on, aware of their diminishing troop.

With sideways glances they carried on, knowing not what was to come,
Dragging their tired feet along, to the beat of the battle drum.

They shivered as evening turned to night with no sun to warm the air,
And somewhere during all of this, they ceased to even care.

They realized with shock how dreadful it was, to face the horrors of war.
And with the sound of a musket, their lives were nevermore.