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Bullets that are too far away to hear back home
But words that will forever ring just as loud in my ears
Delivered from the lips of a uniformed man
The sympathetic sentence any mother fears to hear

I turn away as if ignoring his presence
Will make this unwanted reality go away
But he repeats that he is sorry for my loss
Those words are the last thing I remember of that day

I find myself looking out of the back yard window
On the swings in the garden I still see my boy play
I am bringing drinks out to him and his brothers
Under the sun, on the grass, on endless summer days

Those memories like photographs in frames on the wall
Now show my son with a wife and child of his own
A husband and father torn from their loving arms
In to the mass grave-in-waiting of a war zone

His old bedroom was already a shrine to him
Even before his blood soaked deep in to the desert sands
We waited for him to return from his first tour
Knowing the boy we’d said goodbye to would come home a man

Although we brought him up with morals and beliefs
Compassion and bravery were born within him
For the country he loved his life has been cut short
Now in silence he lays in a flag adorned coffin

Pride gives way to grief and grief gives way to anger
As right now everything is overshadowed with pain
The world wakes up this morning no closer to peace
We wake up knowing we won't see our son again

He’s just another news story in a newspaper
You can turn the page over and the sadness is gone
But for us it lingers and I cant help but wonder
How many more sons and daughters will become fallen ones
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Submitted on
April 10, 2014


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