This soldier was meant to be playing football with his other teenage friends – the draft went completely askew
And before his beloved famille knew he was thrown in at the deep end
A boy sent to fight a man’s war, all blood-curdling hell about to break to bone-crunching pieces these pretty little faces
Wrap their unprepared minds inside of cognitively corrosive nooses for a lifetime
He didn’t choose this, never would
When a ball bouncing against a goalpost turns itself to a bullet whizzing by an unsuspecting ear
Even the cheers and jeers are oh so different, bulging arms hellbent on winning everything
Churning rotten milk into bastardised butter, unearthing problems right where there really are none
No evening supper in this instance, just a cold bath with armoured friends entirely
Those seemingly eye-ball mounted bullets continuing to whizz past their downtrodden, utterly misery-laden faces
Longing for the days of simple which seem to have sprinted on by
They do all long for that golden meadows in the breeze finish-line
One-nil to the enemy

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