1943 and World War 2

When I was young and just a kid 
it did not matter what I did 
as the time always passed so slow 
and sometimes it was hard to know 
should I go home to eat a bite 
or can we play with all our might 
cops and robbers, cowboys and guns 
in our minds were the only ones 
shooting each other in make belief 
play acting dead no small relief 
to play dead for a while and rest our bones 
till the game is over and we go home 
or maybe we start another game 
change the sides so they’re not the same 
different players in each team 
hoping that they have not been seen 
and in our minds we shoot to kill 
and cry out your dead from over the hill 
then the arguments will start 
I am not dead just playing the part 
your shot at me was high and wide 
now you must be on the other side 
as I have shot you through the heart 
and in this game you have no part 
we would play this make belief 
until it was dark and we would creep 
out of the woods and head back home 
in a group and not alone 
for we all feared walking at night 
when none of us ever had a light 
to show us the way back to our homes 
where with our folks we were never alone 
that was a long time ago 
that I was eight or nine years old or so 
and we spent our time out in the woods 
just as every young kid should 
away from the books and the radio too 
not needing those things or maybe a few 
for the evening when it’s time for bed 
and the cops and robbers and cowboys instead 
turn into dreams as we sleep the time 
to do it tomorrow will be just fine 
eighty years have now long gone 
and I remember those time just like a song 
when we played in the woods without a care 
our whole life before us ours to share 
and now I am old and think of those times 
having to put it all in rhyme 
so that others can share the life 
we had as kids without any strife 
even though there was World War Two 
we were kids and had no clue 
except to dive for cover till the bombers passed 
or the doodlebugs motor would not last 
and when it cut out the thing would fall 
with a mighty explosion with a pall 
of smoke and debris and sometimes a form 
as someone dies and we are so forlorn 
but in the end we lived our lives 
through all of the chaos of that time 
and eighty year later remember the day 
when in the fields we went out to play. 

Written 09/29/2023 Eighty-Three years later.