I once used a stick as my sword, <br />And the gun I used it was my finger, <br />Those memories in my mind they still linger, <br />In my youth, when I played war. <br /> <br />My missiles and bombs they were rocks, <br />A trash can lid it was my shield, <br />My backyard it became an enemy field, <br />And the gloves I wore, they were my socks. <br /> <br />I wore a bowl on my head for a helmet, <br />My lunch in my paper sack they were my rations, <br />Fighting and killing enemies were my passions, <br />Then I smoked away, on a candy cigarette. <br /> <br />When I scraped my knee I went to the medic, <br />Where the nurse (my mom) gave me a band-aid, <br />When patched up I went back to my tree base to invade, <br />All enemies I was ready to fight, and them all I could lick! <br /> <br />Now I think of my youth as I am not a boy anymore, <br />I now carry real grenades and a knife and a gun, <br />Battles and fighting and blood, it is no longer any fun, <br />Now I do not any longer wish or want to play war. <br /> <br />Randy L. McClave<br /><br />Randy McClave<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/when-i-played-war/
