I stood there.
Waiting.
Listening.
He was one of the lucky ones.
That’s what they told me.
The others of his unit,
Well,
Some won’t walk.
Some won’t see.
And those who can do both,
They’ll wish they were him.
That I found silly.
Who envies the dead?
I stood there.
Waiting.
Watching.
Watching the breeze,
Move the little flag,
That was placed next to the stone.
How many other:
Mothers,
Fathers,
Brothers,
Sisters,
Wives,
Husbands,
Will have to see what I see?
I stood there.
Waiting.
Feeling.
Feeling anger towards those who killed my baby boy.
Feeling sympathy to those who have seen what I’ve seen.
Feeling bitterness towards life.
Why was it so unfair?
I stood there,
Waiting,
For them to bury my son, the solider.
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