The Boy

The seed on the ground
Isn't just the right place
To feed of the goodness
And grow up with grace
There's nothing to hinder
It’s progress and life
Except [?]

Now the boy is a soldier
With iron and tin
He chops of their heads
With a smile and a grin
He’ll never be sorry
He’ll never be told what to do

He’ll father his own
In his own very way
And think of what
He what pass on that day
The anger that [?]
Are all thrown away in the end