Young Soldier in Latin America

I am a soldier,

But I still feel the screws of adrenaline

Scraping my veins.

I am a man,

But I still fear the thought of looking into

A dying man’s eyes from my doing.

I am a boy,

And I don’t want to be here

I don’t know how to feel;

Proud to be in arms,

Or scared for my life.

People look at me a say

How brave I am

Because I can keep my quivering mouth still

And my shoulders stiff,

But my eyes are looking beyond my muscles,

Into my mind, and I know that I am afraid.

Please don’t let me have to go,

Or to fill my duties;

I don’t want to carry the burden of murder

Before I even fall in love.