A Hungry Soldier Never Polishes His Toy Gun Poem by nimal dunuhinga
A Hungry Soldier Never Polishes His Toy Gun
A pauper takes out a notepad from his satchel
And scribble something with a pencil.
Where is the bitter pill that neutralizes the hunger?
I have never been to a school and don't know the capital letters,
Commas, Fullstops, Semicolons and Question marks in this misery life.
Even I cannot erase my sins as it's against the law it seems.
I humbly request a death with dignity
If someone hears patiently?
* [ And how does this happen to me, that the Mother of my Lord should come to me.]
Often it is those who condemn the one who takes his own life who take pleasure in depriving others of theirs. Your poem is gently penned, but the message it contains is profound. I am reminded of the hippocratic oath taken by all doctors: 'Thou shalt not kill, but not shalt not strive officiously to keep alive.' Your poems stir the emotions, Nimal. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Our prayers for young soldiers should cross all boundaries of culture, country or creed. Very touching. Warm regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/19/2024 6:36:30 PM # 1.0.0.1119
A hungry soldier never polishes his toy gun, quite a well written piece of poetry, keep it up