Warchild.

A happy Sunday away from school, it was finally time to wander into the evergreen fields, so close to the coast line. My eyes open to a clear and blue sky, as it smiles gentility to the plains I rest in, I just happen to smile back. For most of the day I played with the skies, as the lively sun found its rays glowing off my skin. Just sliding up and upon the mellow plains; floating on an ocean of green and serene meadows. With my eyes, I pointed and called to glossy waves and it shouted back with patient sounds of liquid earth colliding with silky sand.

Somewhere at mid day, all feelings shifted, as comfort exited my shell like blanket drifting off onto the wind on a cold night. Planes and bombers coming out from everywhere and my blue sky turned violent black as the surly clouds cried tears of black, destroying the innocent fields and the gracious valleys; anger rising out of brushfires and an uproar from the shore to the mountains. The waves were crashing on the rocks, out from torpedo fire taken unkindly. The land grew depressed and disheartened, thus I have to hide from this place, as it was not the place I once knew. I will wait until the sky will smile back again.