War from "A child's perspective"

Can you spare some time Mr. President?
Mom tells me we’re now at war.
Our land is in solitary confinement,
But I haven’t understood, what for?

I long for the green grass garden,

those days I played under the sun.

Won't you give our people pardon?

We're not responsible for what's been done.

I never once met my father,

he died before I was born.

And now because of the bad dry weather,

we've lost our fields of corn.

Those kind people who gave us food,

have all now started leaving.

Mom tried to explain, I never understood,

she said the country's soul is bleeding.

Right now I'm sitting in a bus,

but I don't know where we're going.

I just wish someone would help us,

mom's eyes have now stopped glowing.

My older brother didn't want to follow,

he said he had to stay and fight.

I asked mom if I'd get to see him tomorrow,

she said if God wishes, I might.

Whenever I ask the question why,

the world is angry with her and me,

tears appear and she starts to cry,

saying "my child if only you live to see".

Mr. President, mom says that because of you,

we have to leave our homes forever.

I still don't know what wrong did we do?

Now my family's no longer together.

Please don't drop your bombs on our land,

mom says our corn fields may get better.

Next year I've promised to give her a hand,

whenever the weather gets wetter.

This poem was orginally written from the perspective of an afghan girl, but indeed, and alas, it is applicable to children suffering today all over the world.