Chokehold

They fall from the womb like shellings Forced to fit a mold of someone twice as old Told to trade tears for tear gas, The Pacifists can’t pacify these infant assassins Whose will is suffocated by Kony’s chokehold They enter the mold as mindless magma Come out as plastic soldiers Their childhood left stuck in the mold, Now ready to serve the blood money leach Whose eyes are stained with gold But these karats can’t make a fool see, The abomination of these atrocities As he lives a life in search of blood diamonds Fails to recognize the will he kills along the way Innocence crushed beneath Helmets of shattered bone.