Post by Master William on Mar 20, 2009 18:21:46 GMT -5
The Children
The children played,
Upon the hill,
Among the grass,
Beyond the mill.
They played sweet games,
Of peace and joy,
That life felt whole,
One giant toy.
The smiles and laughs,
That echoed that hill,
Were plenty and loud,
A thousand hearts to fill.
They knew nothing of hate,
Only pleasure and joy,
From young to old,
From girl to boy.
But soon on that hill,
Among the tall grass,
The sun would be dimmed,
By the gleaming of brass.
The playful laughs replaced,
By marches and chants,
The soldiers would come,
In no sort of dance.
They marched in their lines,
Swords raised to neck height,
Their faces blank stares,
Their minds ready to fight.
And the hill would burn,
The grass set ablaze,
And the children would hide,
Feeling trapped in a maze.
The soldiers would come,
The mill torn down,
The children slain,
For the sake of a crown.
They’d have no remorse,
It’s simply their job,
They know nothing but hate,
For the innocents that sob.
They only follow orders,
To do what is “right”,
To fight for the “good”,
And those who are “bright”.
People see other people,
As an inferior race,
A subhuman species,
At society’s base.
But we’re all alike,
You, me and the rest,
Equal in learning,
Before the final test.
So if you feel hated,
Or lost in despair,
Think of these children,
Can you really compare?
~Master William~
The children played,
Upon the hill,
Among the grass,
Beyond the mill.
They played sweet games,
Of peace and joy,
That life felt whole,
One giant toy.
The smiles and laughs,
That echoed that hill,
Were plenty and loud,
A thousand hearts to fill.
They knew nothing of hate,
Only pleasure and joy,
From young to old,
From girl to boy.
But soon on that hill,
Among the tall grass,
The sun would be dimmed,
By the gleaming of brass.
The playful laughs replaced,
By marches and chants,
The soldiers would come,
In no sort of dance.
They marched in their lines,
Swords raised to neck height,
Their faces blank stares,
Their minds ready to fight.
And the hill would burn,
The grass set ablaze,
And the children would hide,
Feeling trapped in a maze.
The soldiers would come,
The mill torn down,
The children slain,
For the sake of a crown.
They’d have no remorse,
It’s simply their job,
They know nothing but hate,
For the innocents that sob.
They only follow orders,
To do what is “right”,
To fight for the “good”,
And those who are “bright”.
People see other people,
As an inferior race,
A subhuman species,
At society’s base.
But we’re all alike,
You, me and the rest,
Equal in learning,
Before the final test.
So if you feel hated,
Or lost in despair,
Think of these children,
Can you really compare?
~Master William~