With her hand on her growing belly
The woman kisses him goodbye
He’s off to fight the war
And there’s nothing she can do
To keep him home, keep him safe
He wipes away a stray tear from her face
He knows she wants him to stay
But he’s going anyway

10 months later, the woman recieves a letter
“I’m sorry,” he says
“They need someone on the frontlines,” he says
“I should have listened to you.
And tell our boy how much I love him.
Tell him to stay home.”

Standing over the casket, she whispers to the boy,
“Listen to me, young man.
You will stay home and stay safe
And never follow in your father’s footsteps.”

He grows, knowing his mother’s hatred of violence, of war
When he’s 19, he enlists
His mother screams and cries
She won’t see him off

While he’s away, she loses herself to insanity, to paranoia and fear

When the boy, now a man, comes home
He finds her
Hanging from the ceiling
A note on the table

“I willl not accept another letter
That tells of my young boy dying
Like his father before him.”

He reads this
And he cries