White Ravens' Poetry Collection

A collection of various old and new poems I recently found on my computer :)

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6. The Little Boy

A very difficult topic to tackle, and still after quite a few revisions, I don't think this poem does justice to the pain wars bring. That pain is impossible to put into words.

 

 

A little boy whistles as he flies

He’s now up high, his head in the skies

Any minute now his mother will cruelly fly far away

Ignorant to his actions that will last much longer than a day

 

A little boy whistles as he flies

Soon he’ll complete his mission, his head in the skies

His smooth stumped nose is what he will quickly have to chase

Past the smouldering sun, many will remember his fierce face

 

A little boy whistles as he flies

Through the never-ending clouds, his head in the skies

Now he falls from the opening in the prison rails of his cot

Nobody knows whether he'll manage to land on his feet or not

 

A little boy whistles as he flies

Through the town, his head in the skies

So many more will suffer from his anger and his pride

Though small, like everyone, with history he will be tied

 

A little boy whistles as he flies,

About to hit the ground, his head no longer in the skies

Once his job is done, another called the ‘Fat Man’ will follow after

Almost entirely equal, both shall always bring tears and never laughter

 

A little boy whistled as he flew

On the floor now, no-one knew what he could do

Two cities now ashes, from one aeroplane

One world war, two bombs, bringing so much pain

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