The Truth About War (Based on the true story of World War II, Grave of the Fireflies)
A boy, his mom, and his sister
The streets rain with fire
To the shelter, Mom must go
The little ones take shelter in a hut, watching the burning hell before them
On the blackened streets the glowing redness fades
All alone, they check the school, now in place of the destroyed hospital
All he can see are white bandages, soaked with red
Her sindged eyes, now closed, in eternal rest
The flys and maggots eat at her once beautiful body
The smell of death surrounds them
The burning flesh stuns them, her beauty is gone forever
The young girl, not knowing wha to hate, love, or to fear
The destruction lines her soft sand box
As far as they can see...dead...all lost in a burning blaze
Their noses shall never forget the smell
Their eyes shall forever see the hatred around them
Their minds shall remember those lost
Their fingers always shall reach to touch, yet never meet
The child understands not war, pain, or death
Only joy caresses a child's soul, a mother's touch-never to be felt-a tear never kissed away
On their own, they must survive
"Where shall we go?"
A shelter once used for the firey rain is their home
Nothing is left, but grief and pain
The rations cannot fill a child's stomach
Food is short-going until at last, it's gone
The bruises and scars now show his efforts to keep his sister alive
The sickness sets in, the destruction is over
They have lost...but more so then anyone can imagine
The battle is not over
To weak to speak, she lays still
Food at long last, her mind has so longed to taste it
Dirt is rice, marbles are candy, in her sweet, starving mind
Tears streak the tender cheek
So hungry that they are drivin insane
So hungry, she knows not what is real
A bite of food cheers her tender soul
Leaving a bit of watermelon until the food is cooked
She closes her eyes to rest
She slips into eternal slumber, she never awoke
He has nothing left to live for-all is gone
He lies hungry in the train station
The flies buzz around him, dancing on his soul
Janitors try to clean around the hundreds of empty bodies of the children
"This one's gone too" one said
That's the last thing he ever heard...
In very loving memory of all who died in war, may it not stay in vain. Our grief cries eternally. Please, I beg of you, don't let this happen again!
-Jenni Kirby
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