STOLEN[1]
He used to
write to her, do his penpal letters in his spare time. Nothing special, you
understand, it’s good to be friends and have fun.
Over a year’s worth of letters sent both ways, something
young people do. Talking about music and films and their lives.
Out of the blue they
came and took him from his homeland, to her land, but he wasn’t destined to
meet her.
They took his colleagues, too, and killed a lot more. Her
letters went unanswered, she received one of his sent before all of this.
His side retaliated as they had to do; after all, they
had to be seen as strong by one-and-all.
Over one month of attacks to free their boys, we’ll show
them, no-one will be spared.
True to their word, so many died by their firepower,
wrecking a country with little done in return.
He remained a prisoner, she wrote letter-after-letter,
all unanswered.
She cried at his silence, she missed his words and
talking.
Why can’t our countries talk instead of having this
stupid war?
They took my friend and started all of this. If only they
would talk and fight, how stupid they are!
Bring my friend back to his people, I want his letter.
I’ve never met him due to the border.
We are not so different, could this be love, stolen by
war?
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