A small secretion gave him away,
the tough marine who had yomped in a day
from San Carlos to Stanley, served in Helmand,
but now was defeated by the tiniest hand
that gripped his finger and wouldn't let go,
he swallowed hard, no feelings could show
the chink in his armour, that hard carapace,
as that small secretion rolled down his face
from eyes that looked down, completely undone
by this scrap of humanity, his firstborn, his son.
Copyright © John Jones | Year Posted 2020
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