Children of War

They played soccer with

An old sock filled with cloth

On burned out grounds

Goals denoted by two sticks

And still they played


Sometimes they hesitantly smiled

Having long forgotten how to laugh

Ninety year old eyes

In nine year old faces

And still they played


Weary eyes knowingly searching

The sky all around

Never stopping to listen

For the telltale sounds

And still they played 


Souls hardened by death

Bodies already conditioned

To scamper at the

First sign of danger

And still they played


They played soccer

With childlike abandon

Knowing it could be

Their last game

And still they played