Too Young to Die

In the little town where I grew up and my childhood came and went

was a dark-haired girl with a crooked smile with whom my days were often spent.

And I never gave much thanks to luck when we'd count the stars at night,

but at 14 years, a war broke out and they shipped me off

to fight. I felt a taste of honor, until it finally hit me why,

too poor to dodge and too young to vote, but I ain't too young to

die. That night I wept in darkness, alone and on my knees,

clenched my hands as hard as they could squeeze. I'd never even kissed that girl