A short, tragic poem that follows the life of a young man... |
He was only two Talking, walking, Laughing, playing, mocking He'd paint with his fingers A cheeky smile that always lingers He was only two He was only seven Loving, learning Absorbing all that he was hearing Afraid of the dark, he'd creep in to our bed Just to calm his imaginative head He was only seven He was only twelve Growing, knowing Proud of his grades he was always showing He'd play with friends or watch T.V. All the while looking up to me He was only twelve He was only sixteen Graduating, resume making Control of his life he was taking He'd work all day and play all night Of his life's goals he never lost sight He was only sixteen He was only twenty-four Fighting, preserving A tour in Iraq he was serving He put his country before himself They gave his wife a flag to put on the shelf He was only twenty-four He was only two Trying, crying Not knowing why his father wasn't arriving One day he'd understand, his mother knew Because right now, after all... He was only two |