Son Oh Son

Home is far, so far away
Dear country calls
Distant bases will be brimming
with men who rise, who march
who run, who fall for country
Blood is the price for peace
Peace is like the rain,
coming and going, and going and coming
When country calls, Son must part then
Goodbyes said, tears shed, and Son must part then
Her sunlight will be dimming, her laughter ending
like a song, like a dream
When country calls
Men will be bleeding on every front, 
on every field where children once played,
Where life like flowers once thrived
Because country called
He left, he saw, he returns
Statue-still in a coffin wrapped in flag
Country and glory have become one
But a woman's heart is drowning in grief
Son, Son, O! Son
She sees only the coming coffin wrapped in flag
Copyright © | Year Posted 2011

Poem

Post Comments

Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.

Please Login to post a comment

Be the first to comment on this poem. Encourage this poet.

Get a Premium Membership
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a Premium Membership.
Book: Diverse Voices: The Poetry of Human Rights and the Pursuit of Peace