'Little Ones' by David Hart
Little children, where are your dolls and toys?
Where are your teddy bears and tricycles?
Are there no plastic beads to don or marbles to shoot?
Little ones, now handling bullets and guns,
I long to see your zeal for hopscotch and jump rope.
O, air and green fields, be filled with scents of flowers and the flapping of
butterfly wings, not of murder and rage!
Winds, cry not pernicious tears of revenge and death.
Little children where are your squeals of delight on
teetertauters and swings?
Now you handle bullets and guns to fill up your days.
Passing your days with bullets and guns,
with no time
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