My War

Her childhood she would say..
was a battlefield at best.
Dodging flying objects..
avoiding hidden traps..
always on the defensive..
waiting for attack.
Born into this war..
no warning..
no training..
Nothing to prepare her..
for what she
was in store for....
She was just a child..
living in a house of rage..
Born in this free world..
Yet living in a cage..
Like a prisoner of war..
she was not allowed
to think..
to talk..
not allowed to eat..
to drink ..
to smile..
not allowed to live..
not allowed to be..
Every single need..
went through the enemy.
She had no National Guards
to back her..
No United Nations
by her side..
She fought this war alone..
Without a single alliance..
Everything left to chance..
No one in this world..
to care if she lived or died..
The only weapons of
mass destruction
were aimed directly
at her soul..
Unfortunately they were
her parents..
She had little
to no control.
Dodging missiles
was her expertise..
Camouflage a must..
It was very hard
for her to survive
in this war
that she was thrust.
The only way
she could truly escape.
was within herself..
Now the battlefield is empty..
but her memories linger on..
for here she lost
her innocence..
with every drop of blood
that was shed..
Here she lost
her childhood.
that she never really had..
She lost so many battles..
She wonders who won the war.
Yes..
She survived..
but knows she is no longer
truly alive..
Sometimes she feels
like a walking empty shell
But as the saying goes ..
War
Is
Hell.

ERICA