Come Home At Last

April 19, 2011
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He walked across the field;
a leather case in hand.
Wearing a black suit;
and a Rolex watch band.

His gray hair hanging down;
his face wrinkled from time.
He looked greatly worked;
his age well past his prime.

He walked through the fields;
smelling all the plants.
The sky was light blue;
the grass like a lance.

The man had a smile;
that covered his face.
He was taking his time;
trying not to race.

Finally he stopped and smiled;
he looked up and sighed.
He opened his little case;
and what he saw made him cry.

Pictures of his family;
of his wife and kids.
They were all gone;
leaving him nothing to fend.

He had gone to a war;
that he did not win.
And the horrors he saw;
had led him to sin.

Loose women and drugs are bad;
but he took them in.
Leading him to violence;
and the murder of innocent men.

He went to prison for a time;
serving forty-five years alone.
Now he was gree;
and happiness was his tone.

He closed his bag;
and straightened his tie.
He looked to the ground;
then he smiled at the sky.

He thanked God for saving him;
and looking after him in 'Nam.
He started walking again;
right to his family farm.

He came up and knocked the door;
he saw it open and got to his knee.
He begged for her forgivness;
and to his surprise, she agreed.

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