by Stacie Jackson

Created on: October 14, 2009   Last Updated: October 17, 2009

Walking across the field,
I look around.
So many men have been cut down.
I'm searching for someone.
Where is he?
My son, my boy,
Could it be?


There!
In the distance I see,
A familiar blue cap,
On the ground, practically calling out to me.


Oh,
God no,
Please,
Not him


Through my tears I can't see.


My son, my boy,
Could it be?
Cut down on the field.


A child of five,
He was just a boy.


My life is now my misery.
They took my husband years ago,
My son was all I had left to show


A child of five,
He was just a boy.


Now he's nothing,
Just a bloody stain on the floor.
This is all that's left for me after this dreaded war.

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