The Soldier and His Son p.4

The soldier’s son woke with a start

At the thundering noise 

He wasn’t used to hearing guns

‘Twas only just a boy 

He jumped from off his bed at once 

He hurried to his feet 

To find the source of the loud bang

That rang so indiscreet 

He felt his way through the hallways

He found his father’s room 

He figured that his dad would know

Just what had made the boom 

He pushed open his father’s door

And fumbled for the light

What he saw before him then 

Filled his young heart with fright 

His father lay sprawled on the floor 

His gun still in his hand

And on his forehead lay his wound

His final, gaping, brand 

The gun had torn a hole through him

A fist-sized pit of gore 

The blood and viscera poured out

Onto the hardwood floor 

The crimson poison soaked the ground

And seeped into the cracks 

The wall behind was coated, too

A mural to his wrack

The boy fell to his knees in shock 

His eyes were wet and wide 

And in the moment, something broke

And shattered deep inside 

He kneeled over his father’s corpse

And let tears freely run 

And so in deathly silence sat

The soldier and his son 


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