A poem about a woman who has lost her son and husband to war. The longing and stubborness makes her refuse to believe the people she loves had left her. Truly a sad poem.
My son will come home
I sit by the window, in my rocking chair,
i watch them arrive, but he is not there.
Telling myself over, and over again,
5 years is just a number, he will come back.
My only son has gone to war,
His father has gone leaving me and no more.
This terrible grief is seizing my health,
Just feeling his presence will make me feel well.
The ocean is gray, the sky is a misery blue,
The weather is mourning, reflecting my mood.
My memories replace the loneliness i feel,
I sense he’s departed, but i know it’s not real.
They tell me he’s dead, but how could it be true?
Nobody told me, truth could be so cruel.
My pain is eating, away from inside,
I'm already lifeless, hearing he died.
For 5 years i waited, to welcome him back,
to hear his laughter, to help him unpack.
All healthy and well, happy or sad,
but i never predicted, he’ll be just like his dad.
As i sit alone, cold in distraught,
He lies beneath me, who would've thought.
I've selfishly come to accept the death of my son,
For he saved millions, while i only grieve one.
