Little boy, little girl you stand out there, so innocent and yet so ashamed, your father left you so long ago, your mother was taken away. You stand out there between all the stones, in the ruins that once was your home, so you swear to yourself, you will never do, never be the same when you grow up. And you pick up a stick and you make it a gun, and you play the same game that made you so dodged, you forget about all about the hate and the war, you continue to play to be ready one day.