No more shall the teddy bear be lifted,
No more shall the hallway fill with song,
No more shall birthday cakes be feasted
on, nor the outdoors played upon.
Some of them were ten-and-three,
Some were only five,
Some of them drank their morn tea free
when the Kalibr ate them alive.
“Here, here, sweet child, don’t more cry”,
“You will soon have all the toys you adore”,
“No, sweet child, you’re not going to die.”
Words said to the children killed in war.