Brave Boy Soldier Poem by *Tony Cemaluk Egbuonu

A year into it,
in the heat of it,
I came out
from my mother's womb
where my father put me in.

I can boldly, proudly say
I witnessed it all.

Not a soldier on war front
but a soldier on forefront
fighting to survive the war
and the aftermath of it.

The frequent scamper to bunker
where freedom of speech was denied.
My freedom to cry, shriek
or giggle.

A gallant boy soldier underneath bunker,
I tried to shout out.
No. They overpowered me.
They stifled my voice,
against my will.

My kicks deterred them not.
My kicks wouldn't expose us
to the enemies at war.

All must feign death.

But I am alive
and fighting to crawl in the open
for my age
before the stage
passes away.

It did pass away.

Next, I was scampering
along others, running
whenever danger lurked on air.
'Shell, ' they called it.

I survived all, even
the most potent weaponless weapon -
hunger, and its attendant,
malnutrition
waiting to take me away
as a waitress takes away
a plate of finished food
with remaining bones.

But Providence protected me,
and flesh covered my bones.
I came out
a brave soldier.
I survived the war,
standing alive, fighting
the aftermath of the war
and other wars
on the road to manhood.