The War Outside, The War Inside

I hold the gun in my hands
its pointed towards innocence
I can't control my thoughts
when and why did it come to this?

his eyes reflect my own terror
at what is going on around us
his tears show my face in them
and the guilt shows in mine

his mother blames me
I can't say I blame her
I can choose to stop this madness
but instead I stand my ground

my conscience battles itself
when I notice his little legs  shaking
he is just like my nephew
except he will never be the same

everything around me fades
the screams, the sobs, the shouts
all I can see is his poor body
dispersing anguish in waves

I almost smile at him to cheer him up
but I catch myself just I'm time
my job is not to comfort him
but really just the complete opposite

I can't help what I do
I'm just following orders
or are these all just lies?
I tell myself in order to sleep at night

This poem is about: 
Our world

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