SHRAPNEL BOY
Shrapnel boy take me to your home.
Does your sister sleep softly in her bunker grave?
Do they throw you food from the skies and keep you safe?
Are you afraid of the bearded guy,
With one eye?

It’s those flying birds, they make such sweet noise.
Sing you lullabies, so you sleep, and are at the breakfast table first.

“Took daddy to keep and mummy to stay.
Away big birds. Away.”

Is the Red Cross big and bright?
Do the stars in the sky shine tonight?

“Like children’s story books, only there is no good guy.
They wrote it wrong and mixed the paints.
I see no sunny yellow or grassy green, only evil black and bloody red.”

It’s for your own good dear boy.
You don’t want to grow up in a wasteland do you?

“Deserts and mountains where I used to hide.
Cowboys and Indians with dead brother and sister with who I used to play fight.
Now I play ghost games with sweet sister of mine.”

It’s for your own good dear child, so you can be a happy man.

“For who?”

For you.

“But why?”

To see you smile.

“Who will see me?
Mummy’s asleep and daddy gone, only me here, singing the wrong song.”

Daddy is your enemy and mummy’s too weak.
The world will want to see your bright teeth.
Baking soda and burgers and fries, you’ll be a lucky boy with a twinkle
in your eye.

“I stepped on the wrong toy yesterday; but I didn’t break it.”

Good boy.

“It broke me instead.
No more football or cricket to play, but I guess there’s always buzkashi
for a man to play.”

You don’t need legs to be happy man.
They’ll give you a desk and Microsoft pen.

“No more stones.”

And no more guns.

“This is revolution?”

It’s been and gone.

“I want to go back.”

But where?

“Where I am still allowed to dream.”

Of what?

“Mummy, daddy and me having fun.
I don’t need a desk or a Microsoft pen, only want my cave back and
games that were so much fun.”