War ChildCAMBODIA

             "My name, it doesn't matter."

                    "I'm nine years old."

                            She said.

                          My mother     ,

                           My father     ,

                                And

                         My brother,

                        All are dead.

                   My sister and myself

                Are all that's left alive.

            I've been caring for her now,

         Since the year that I turned five.

         Gangrene has got my leg wound.

                  I doubt if I'll survive.

         Nine long years upon this Earth;

            I've hungered and I've feared

            Since the sad day of my birth.

              It doesn't bother me at all,

             To tell this world goodbye.

                         But, Mister,

                        Feed my sister.

                 She's too young to die.