Wooden soldiers

In that box red soldiers lie in a jumble
Hush now dry your tears my little one
Sometimes angry nations fight
See the candle hold it tight
They march on sticks in shadows fall and stumble
 
People that we knew and loved, walked a path
We called it fate  
And played a game, cannon fodder just live bait
And some stand up and some lay down
Some went away never to return
Rode your bike in the craters risen deep
 
Say no words of angry prayers, was a lost yesterday
No tantrum shame and memories to disgrace
The sweets you hold share them with  
A smiling face
And cherish each piece that action took away