Child Soldier
There was no parade
To welcome me back from battle;
No noble penance
Just punishment for a tattle.
I was a child soldier in a domestic warzone.
No I didn’t carry a rifle nor did I throw a grenade.
I tiptoed through my own home
Just to play his game of charades…
T'was no great organization
To topple to the ground,
Just a short little man
Who threw me around.
My reenforcements often told me
That I had cast the first stone
But how can a child pick such a fight
Barely four feet grown?
There was no 38th parallel,
No Midway playground,
Just a four level ranch home
In a quiet suburban town.
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