The Soldier

The soldier was

A baby,

Rocked to sleep

On his mother’s knee.

A toddler,

With sticky hands

And a bright smile.

A child,

Riding a bike

The wind in his hair.

A teenager,

Falling in love

For the first time.

A man,

Lost and desperate

To prove himself.

The soldier was

A man who loved his country.

A man who made a mistake.

Now the soldier stands on the battlefield,

Facing a foreign enemy.

All he can see is the weapon

And the war.

All he can see is his country’s flag,

A blindfold over his eyes.

All he can hear

is prejudice ringing

in his ears.

But then,

As he raises his gun to fire,

He looks into his enemy’s eyes.

Looks into those

deep brown

fearful eyes

And sees

A baby,

Rocked to sleep

On his mother’s knee.

A child,

Riding a bike

The wind in his hair.