Our Nursery Rhyme

 Children trapped from head to toe 
 Hidden where, no one does know  
 Weapons of war within their grasp 
 "Kill them all, and do it fast"
 

 Muddy faces 
 Dirty hands 
 Knotted stomach 
 Never land 
 

 Clenched fingers 
 Unwashed hair
 Foul smell
 Death in the air 
 

 Red eyes 
 Choked cries 
 Dry tears 
 Years and years 
 

 One by one,
 The children fall
 Hear the guns
 Their final call  

By Fatoumata Ouedrago