Gun On My Temple

(14 year old boy with mother in a police station during the Korean War) The captain His feet on his desk Smoking a cigarette Where’s your scumback communist brother? I don’t know, Sir. Where’s your father? Supposed to be a Christian minister? North Korean soldiers took him away Several weeks ago Didn’t a communist son Help save his father? No Mother said My brother was an idealist Not a North Korean communist Who told you all those lies? I’m telling the truths, Sir Mother told me never tell lies So, my people are all liers And you are telling the truth? Captain scoffed That does it Go ahead The captain ordered the policeman Who was holding a pistol On my temple Yes, Sir The police pulled the trigger My head jerked I pictured a bullet Going through my head Coming out the other side With gray matter But I felt nothing Then I heard a woman’s voice My mother’s voice I turned Mother’s on the floor With her hands Reaching out toward me With her mouth open With her eyes round That night I could not sleep Question troubled me The bible tells God who even looks after lilies in the field That withers within days Surly he will take care Of his people Then why doesn’t God take care of us? His people? (From 'Sustained by Love thru the Wars', my Korean story, on Amazon)