War 2

My Son came home.
For a well earned rest.
6 months he had served.
He was the best.
In his shining brand new jet.

He looked the same.
Childish face loving grin.
What did you do.
My fine young man?

I killed more than anyone.
I made the earth boil.
Hospitals, churches, all succumb.
To the dropping of my bomb.

But my son.
We raised you to be loving and mild.
Not to be a ravaging evil kind.
How can you do these terrible things?

It's OK Dad.
They are not real people you know.
Only fodder.
For me to blow.
I am doing my duty.
To God and King.
My orders are kill everything.

You are no longer my son.
I renounce you.
For what you have done
God will not forgive you, nor I.
You are covered in blood and sin.
You rejoice in it  within.

..............................................
Copyright © | Year Posted 2007

Poem

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