A little girl of 3 or 4

A little girl of 3 or 4
With her flowered frock
Touching her ankles,
Is playing in the park,
Picking tiny yellow flowers
Showing up in the grass.

A squad of soldiers march,
Left, right, left, right,
Past her a little and then
The commander shouts:
“Stop, stand at ease.”
The bewildered little girl

Cries running to her mom
Wondering what are these
Men dressed all in green,
Beating the ground with feet,
Carrying the guns in arms
And wearing the green helmets.

Too little yet to know
They’re the messengers of death.
Killed or be killed is their motto
When sent to wars fighting
For land, God or pride.
Poor little girl, too little yet to know.

What do we know?
For land, God or pride
Is it all right to pay the price
Of one’s own life or take
Someone’s else life?
Is our life nothing
But to live for
Land, God or pride?

Yet too little for her to know
What death after all is.
And for man to know
Life is for living life
Not dying for land
That one leaves behind,
Not dying for God
That might not exist,
Not dying for pride
When others insist.