A child of war

The Child was born there.
some said six, some said eight,
but five is what he aged.
they said he ll become a man
a doctor, he ll be great
he d dry the tears, and heal the wounds
he d defeat this dark fate.
a child of love he was
some said a child of war
darkness cares not what they said
he was there on the corner
looking shocked, lost, and pale
he wondered
how could a barbarian shadow shake his town
turn nights to days
take the house with his parents down
it could paint sky with blood red.
he cried, yelled, he shouted,
he prayed and sometimes cursed
he then smiled for what his hand had caught
his newest toy in the rubble down there
he cleaned it, held it close.
the sound gets closer, closer, closer.
he hears what he thought was god
as the toy fell on the ground
red roses grew all over the place
where the pure blood covered his face
he monitored the sky with the last gaze
stared and wondered
not what justice is
but where did his toy go....

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