At school.
You were soon forced to get rid of your slates
9 years later.
In late 1999,
You made my country,
Your country
Forced to pay the highest bill of hate
When you grabbed a rifle, your abominable tool.
You and I were playmates
At school,
Where we held glue to our pencils
Never holding sway
And never went late to school, never delay
To submit your homework
Just working around the clock.
You and I were classmates
At school,
But you were forced to get fatigued and tired of school,
When you were captured and forced to use the gun and fire
On both enemy camps and innocent people,
When you were given a rifle
And bestowed a phoney title.
You and I were playmates
At school.
Today, you have left my country in a horrendous state,
Your wide eyes seem to have been dipped
In crimson blood,
And shoot a fierce fire
And wielded great command your parents can hardly afford
Even though ensconced in dismal attire.
Enticed by a fake dividend,
From the warlord’s flattering tongue
And vain pretence,
You are hopeful that the subsiding
Or rather winning
Of the war could give you gemstones of affluence.
You and I were playmates
At school.
Your teenage vigour couldn’t find sympathy
For your patrimonial land,
And your immediate stance,
Is to use the rifle that has since remained your tool,
And in blasting your land,
You never get fired.
You pride yourself in your newfound artistry with drugs,
And make so much fuss
Because of your dexterity,
With your trigger.
You were forced to be a randy rapist,
Forced to rape your land
And become a stooge to a covetous coupist.
You and I were playmates at school,
Today, in 1997
You made me timid by your AK 47.
Now you have forced me out of school,
For you have been forced to go into a deadly fray,
And so I am absolutely afraid of you,
Though you were my playmate,
You were my schoolmate,
Now you are a stalemate!
Andrew Benson Greene 1997
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