Is it that men love to kill?
It must be that they've lost free will.
Can't a boy grow up to be kind?
It must be that he's given up his mind.
Don't all men know how to cry?
Some have to wait 'til they see their buddy die.
Can't a boy grow up to abhor death?
They abhor it when they take their last breath.
The boys I raised learned the golden rule.
So maybe it's the mothers that play the fool.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem