Those words are what you hear
Bringing unrelenting reality to bear
Flashes of faces, memories come thick and fast
The future becomes the past
We pray that death came quickly
The thought of you suffering, feel so sickly
You're death sinks in
Cursing your taker, is that sin?
God abandoned you and us, how can He exist?
No matter what, our lives will persist
We didn't feel your battle-ridden pain
Still we suffer, struggle to remain sane
We all dreaded this news
Nervousness always a burning fuse
Every phone call and knock at the door
Sends our hearts racing, they soar
The images on television, sent from the press
Ignorant, sometimes create a bigger mess
Our fallen soldiers, mutilated in a foreign place
Television shows a dragged body, whose face?
The face is not yours, it's not known
Our thoughts to the family of the poor boy shown
A politician comes on, a strange face
Did any of his children go to this awful place
Anger, fear, sadness, and despair
Our family alone, our cries only for us to hear
We come together, close and as one
Crying for our lost daughter or son
Sometimes we hear your voice
And temporarily rejoice
But reality tells us what has happened
Truth hurts and again we are saddened
Upon your coffin, our country's flag is draped
Our family, your life has been raped
The folded flag, tidy and neat
Is given, with details of your brave feat
The military graveyard, bugles and shots sounding loud
Fellow soldiers salute, your brothers standing proud
All due respect is paid
Coffin is lowered, to rest you are laid
Soldiers of great and small allies are sworn
Like us, they stand before a family loss and mourn
Our pain is at its peak
Happy times with you we seek
Your marble headstone, bright and white
Symbolizing your decision, wrong or right
Your place of birth, our home is where we go to
Filled with so many memories of you
We look into your room, your place
Your life, pictures of your face
Photos show your smile on that day
So proud to serve your country in your own way
Another is of you in uniform, sharp and tall
For my country you said I will give my all
Your birth, first words, first steps we remember
The date, a Friday, the twelfth of December
About your life, we've come to a conclusion
Serving your country, a happy resolution
Your death was not an abomination
For you, being a soldier, was a celebration
by Reagan Davis
... who is an aspiring writer, currently working on a novel
entitled Kill One, Terrorize a Thousand; his poetry has
previously appeared in this magazine.