What's so civil about war anyway ?
When I first held him in my hands There was placenta & blood stuck to his hair strands Oh! how proud I was to become mother to a baby boy there was no bounds to my new found joy As he was growing up to be a tiny tot I narrated him stories of how for peace & freedom people fought I got him aeroplanes & swords to play for fun little did I know that one day he'd give up his pen to seriously hold a gun As all mothers I had dreamed that my son would become a big man & for society build a steeple but I never accounted that he could go on to head a group of terrorist people I had dreamt of seeing him famous someday & gave away our television after seeing him as a "wanted" that day .. When I first held him in my hands there was placenta and blood struck to his hair strands When I held him today for the last time there was blood stuck to his head along with a bad name There was once no bounds to my happiness for being blessed with a boy...