War Child

If it were my choice I wouldn't be here
I would be sitting on the beach western
or playing with the other children happily, care free.
I want this so bad

if it were my choice I wouldn't have to carry these weapons
in order to save my life.
I don't think anyone around would care if I was injured,
I think it is all about survival- you survive, you help yourself
and that's it. 'Its just a game' they say, but I'm smart enough
to know now that it is not.

I may not be educated, and restricted from a happy life but
I know this is no game. killing is wrong, even an 8 year old can see that.
But I have no choice.

Here in Congo I dream of the outside world, the world
with all the luck, dreams coming true and happiness.
All of those, everything you could think of made possible.
I have dreams too, has anyone stopped to think about that?

Has anyone stopped to think that maybe I do not aspire to
kill, or injure, or impose harm in anyway?
I desire a happy life, a friend, a family.
My family. gone, gone, far

away from this monstrosity of animosity in this cold sinking place
to the depths of hell and despair. Lost, all gone.
What now? The streets, I suppose.

We street children, animals of the emptiness and cold;
begging, prostitution, exposure to extreme violence
with absence of condolence for health, and for others.

We are revealed to the worst of the worst
We need help.


Help is here