By Michael

A father bids his family goodbye,
his child has fun to where his father is going,
the father meets at the airport with his troops,
while the child calls his friends, to play, “War.�

Once his father’s plane has landed, he gets off,
while his son marches in a line with his friends,
his father looks around the lonely and destroyed area,
while his son sees the green of earth and the blue of the sky.

The father is in enemy territory,
while his son creeps silently across the backyard,
his father sees an enemy shooting at him,
while his son ducks from the imaginary bullets.

His father takes cover in a ditch,
while his son gets ready to fire,
his father goes back up with a loaded gun,
while his son fires imaginary bullets to his friends.

His father takes some lives, his war in his favor,
while after the friends still fire back,
no matter how much the enemy shoots,
they have already lost this fight.

Blood is spilled upon the grounds between the two grounds,
while some of the son’s friends get scratches and grass stains,
the enemy is now becoming defenseless,
as the son starts to move into the friends territory.

The father makes it to the other side,
while his son misses the bullets narrowly,
the enemy is starting to fall back,
while the son yells a victorious yell...

But within a second, a bang is fired,
the father is shoot within the back,
and his son falls to the green grass.

Within a minute, the son hops up to his feet to save his friends,
but his father...lies motionless on the ground, his air ceasing...and then stops,
for in a game can be harmless and there are no graveyards or anyone who has died,
but the fathers now remains dead, never to see his family again...it wasn’t a game...

...it was War...