He was walking with his father,
There was a ice cream in his hand.
Every thing was as usual,
Crowd making noise around them,
Suddenly, there was a scream,
His father push him far,
He heard nothing but a loud 'boom'
It seemed to him as a thunder,
He saw fumes and smokes all around.
Every one was running here and there.
There was sounds of firing and cry,
He felt that he had been deaf.
he saw the ice cream melting in dust,
Beside that ice cream there was father,
Blood all over his wound muscles.
His body had torn and burnt,
The boy ran to his father,
Try to awake him from last sleep,
But that dead man made no response,
The boy started crying beside that,
None to help him in that hell,
None to drag that dead body,
None to say that his father was dead,
Did the boy know What is death?
Did he make up what he lost?
Is that little boy alive to tell us,
That brutal fairy tale of his life?
Is that boy know what is war now?