The Young, The Soldiers Poem by Kinsley Lee

The young Russian soldier was surrounded by the Ukrainian citizens.
He was provided the warm tea and the pieces of bread,
Not knowing why he was there and on his shoulders heavy burdens,
By phoning, weeping with talking, to the east he's the fine thread.

He was recruited by the Chiang's Army during working in the field.
Without the combat, his army surrendered to the Red Army, there.
They did' nt keep the appointment which he could go back to his old field.
Suddenly he's gotten on the train, not knowing to where.

He took off the train and walked the place to the unknown land,
On hearing the political officer's something in every morn.
In cold winding, he grabbed the rifle and dreamed his old land.
In the trench, there were the statues of ice in the sunny next morn.

By the unjustifiable war, the people died, and the soldiers, too.
But there will be the many slogans and songs and movies for poor death.
The dictators brainwashed the people and will, too.
The people will yell the false tears and sing together the death.