Limerick confused as a haiku

The soldiers masked as

Men, took me to a strange pen

I was once a son.

—-

Can you make destruction look like something that shines?

I’m afraid to make you laugh because the bombs go off at random times

I’m a son, not a soldier

I feel like my heart will smolder

I write a haiku to give to mother, she said it sounded like a limerick and this was way too long and didn’t rhyme.

—

There once was a soldier

Whose soul they did sold there

To a rainy, misty motherly face

A caught trout flailing in a fiery mace

And dropped the act, falling into despair

_

Once, there was a shoe

On two feet they did bounce, flew

Now it’s a burnt glue.