He must have been at home
I was in barracks
He must have said goodbye to his family
I left my final letter on my pillow
He knew his responsibilities
So did I.
He hid is weapon
Climbed a roof
Waiting for me.
I checked my weapon
My friend.
I walked those streets.
He took his chance
His life,
He missed,
I took his life.
His rictus grin
Was not my first
Or my last.
Now
I sit
And write
Comedy!
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _
Owain Glyn
