INFANT SOLDIER

Sniper, sniper,
Little more than a boy
Left his soccer buddies
To play with a deadly  toy. 

Eyes vacant, darting
Finger on the trigger, alert
No one to give him courage
No one to soothe his hurt.
Bullets whizz  past his ears
Ringing his wake up alarm
Explosions splintering bunkers
Sing him birthday songs...

Some days his mother's gentle voice
Gives his soul company
Some days his girl's tinkling laugh
Stays back in his dreams.
All alone against the world
Scared, yet ready to go
There's no turning back for him
Its forward, onward, till he is no more. 

MS