Fighter’s Lullaby

I must not feel

The burning in my throat,

And the closing of my eyes.

My stomach feels tight,

As if it has been punched.

But I have no right to feel sick.

I must fight,

Though there is a hole in my hand

Where he stabbed it.

My hand, the whole way through,

And I felt the hot blood pour from me.

Felt it, but did not look down.

I did not want to see the blood as

It dripped from my finger,

Colored the white uniform,

And fell to the ground.

No, I did not look down.

I kept fighting.

I had to learn how to fight him.

The man I loved so much

Because he taught me to fight.

So I will not be sick,

Because my hand did not stop me,

Nor my body, nor my mind.

Leave me, and soon,

Soon I will fight again.