By Lakshmi C
There’s a war outside,
I see them cry,
And I see them die.
I see them asking for help with fear in their voice.
I feel guilty being safe, I feel guilty when the food is getting waste.
I feel guilty for playing in the puddle of water,
I feel guilty for the cuddle I get from my mother and father.
The kid outside is staring at my soul.
He wants to live,
He wants to be loved.
As he only sees blood everywhere, on his little
Fingers and on his little face.
Everything is so blur,
His voice vanished when he was shot by the guns.
I don’t know what to do.
The kid that died was only two.
I can do nothing but only pray,
But I shall pray so much like my life is on the stake.
By Lakshmi C
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