Nine Year Old Eyes.

They stand there, men in uniform

Forcing their authority upon your town

The streets are covered in these types of men and the metal they carry so lovingly will kill you

You are nine and your friend is eight

The ball you are kicking bounces to a man in uniform

He kicks the ball back to you and you wonder how can he kick this ball to me but also shoot me, shoot my friend

You wonder if he had to choose to fire or kick which would it be.