Taps
The old man stood silently, head bowed
Fighting back tears that needed to flow freely
A young Marine was playing Taps on the hill above
He and his wife shattered by the recent events
Holding on to his sanity with the loss of his son
War? What is it good for, what purpose does it serve
In defense of our nation, yes
For the protection of our freedom, yes
To fill a hunger for power, no; a thirst for greed, never
Oh God, to lose your child, the war never ends
As the last note is played, his knees buckle in grief
My son, Oh God, my son, Taps echoing in the distance
If his death served a purpose there could be a closing
If for one moment he could believe but it wasn’t there
Looking at his wife and the despair in her eyes he remembers
The words to an old folk song play over and over in his mind
When will they ever learn? When will they ever learn?
In the days to come, he’ll sit by his son’s grave and talk
One sided conversations but he knows he hears him
So much to say, family, politics, war, questions unanswered
Why did you have to die son, Why? Dear God, tell me why
War, What is it good for? What purpose under heaven
A grieving father, an inconsolable mother, the answer burns
Absolutely nothing!
Copyright © Vince Suzadail Jr. | Year Posted 2009
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