A small piece highlighting the feelings of families of those deceased in war
Some saw the flushed faces of victory.
Some saw the faint rays of sunlight, emerging after a night of destruction.
Some saw the piles of bodies, as tokens of our courage.
All I could see, was the crushed face of my little boy.
The newspapers crooned of our win,
Bearing slogans of joy and triumph;
Full of the jubilant faces of our leaders.
To me, every one of the looked
Like the crushed face of my little boy.
Fireworks filled the town,
Proud proclamations of our victory.
But to my ears, they were the very guns
That took the life of my little boy.
I tried hard to keep a smile on my face
But how could I, when everywhere I looked,
I saw the crushed face of my little boy?
It was hard, but I finally stopped the tears
When I realized that my little boy
Was crushed; just for a moment,
Before he was at peace, forever.
And that soon enough, I too would be
Joining my sweet little boy.