Children of War

To Radhika Coomaraswamy, the UN appointed guardian of children

H. L. D. Mahindapala

After some time
The earth shall return to fill
The craters where
the shells fell
Like a blood-stained
sheet drawn over a corpse.
After sometime
The earth will cover
in forgetfulness
The sounds of a war
Fought by children
To keep alive
A leader they never saw.
In the middle of the jungle
A census begins for children
With a knock on the door
Announcing the arrival of fear.
The head count is
to make sure
That they are of the legal age
To kill or be killed.
The handpicked
children depart
To be trained in
the accurate art
Of taking aim and shooting
Good people opposing
their brand of politics.
To make the task easy
The kids are told
not be queasy
When they kill good people
For the good of
their political fable.
Peace is now a big business
For the merchants
peddling theories
That produce huge profits
From the children of war.
If the child soldiers
stay at home
The peace peddlers
cannot roam
The globe, or pay
for their expensive cars,
Their children's fees,
or liquor bills at bars.
So beat the big drum!
Children, take the gun!
Let wars go on!
Let the peace pundits prolong
This needless war
Celebrated with a last supper
Given to a suicide bomber
With the sole objective
Of protecting the sole
representative
Hiding in a hole
Underground.
After some time
The moving earth shall
return to fill
The holes where children fell
Like buds cut
before their prime
While the hired agents
hold peace marches
At a safe distance,
under foreign-funded arches,
Miles away from their graves,
Miles away from their graves.