Erased

Decayed stench from bitter remains
lie dormat within a tomb
a mother's tears fall effortlessly
upon the softness of a once filled womb

she sees his hair blowing about
in the comfort of a slight breeze
recalling those frantic nurturing moments
when her baby developed a tiny sneeze

a once proud man stands with slumped shoulders
unable to withstand the strain
his once tranquil world has collapsed
under the broken floodgates of pain

an etched stone speaks his son's last words
while ceremonies tell the story
of how he fought bravely for freedom
only to fall protecting "old glory"..

A child doesn't come into this world to go to war,
we teach them, train them, and in the end we bury them,
may GOD forgive us....Bob Shank

Great remembrance / veterans day poem.