From: Cry Freedom
EMail: bookwormz_99@yahoo.com
The Nation - January 30, 2000, Mailbag
Ode to a young Karen boy
A Karen boy was born in Burma
Lived with his family just like you and me
One day the troops came
Burned his house
Shot his father
Raped his mother
In front of his innocent eyes.
A Karen boy grew up with pain
Shout? No one would hear
Took up weapon to open the world's ears.
At the dawn of the new century
The troops came again from the west
From the east other troops started the shelling
He was in the middle
As a young man, he fought to protect his people
Two hundred women and children died
Many were injured
No doctors. No medical care
He and his friends decided to raid a hospital
Asking for shelter and doctors
Hoping that his brothers and sisters would be saved.
But violence was used
All the raiders were killed
More flowers gone out of the field.
From an innocent boy, he died as a terrorist
Violence only adds more to violence.
My little child, don't cry
Your mother is here
Your father is near
Close your eyes and rest in peace
For the first time in your entire life.
Cry Freedom BANGKOK