I made a promise
for my memories and hopes
to never fade from my mind,
even if his body is faded from the earth

I sit in the daisy fields,
at around midnight
I could not sleep because my thoughts,
were cluttered in my head.

Picking petals off a daisy
will he die,
or shall he live to tell the
tale of others dieing.

I am confused, and I,
want so see his shining light,
to comfort and heal
the wounds on my heart

But what is war?
What is dieing?
What is the truth behind a lie?
We will always be able to speak at heart.

(Written in 2004, age 11)