They fall from the womb like shellings
Forced to fit a mold of someone twice as old
Told to trade tears for tear gas,
The Pacifists can’t pacify these infant assassins
Whose will is suffocated by Kony’s chokehold
They enter the mold as mindless magma
Come out as plastic soldiers
Their childhood left stuck in the mold,
Now ready to serve the blood money leach
Whose eyes are stained with gold
But these karats can’t make a fool see,
The abomination of these atrocities
As he lives a life in search of blood diamonds
Fails to recognize the will he kills along the way
Innocence crushed beneath
Helmets of shattered bone.