Richard D. Preston


With a childlike innocence
In the land of the blazing sun
His jet-black hair glistening
He stumbles as others run

Images race through the mind
Of this child of woe
His eyes betray the youth
As a fire that fails to glow

He knows nothing of the giants
That inhabit his war torn land
Dressed in green they speak
In a tongue he cannot understand

The men of war stand laughing
Letters from home clutched in their hands
And talk of loved ones and family
Of distant hopes and plans

Death walks so silently
Upon the red fields of clay
As unsuspecting warriors
Near their dying day

A child of war approaches
As he speaks with a boyish grin
You numbuh one Americans
And then he drops the pin