Untitled Poem
An arm, a leg, an eye, a tongue,
These are the prizes the soldiers have won.
But mom that’s not all
They’ve got Saul,
An arm, a leg, an eye, a tongue,
That’s all that’s left of Saul
That’s all.
He’s dead mom
He’s dead.
“Thank the good Lord,”
My mother said.
“For if he were alive
In the hands of the soldiers
He’d ask the good Lord why.
Why did God give him life
To be treated like a spider
Whose fallen prey
To children’s games
They rip off its legs
And watch him squirm
And laugh,
And laugh,
And these are the games
That children play."
An arm, a leg, an eye, a tongue,
These are the prizes the soldiers have won.
They show their trophies proudly,
Sure signs of their victory.
An arm, a leg, an eye, a tongue,
The trophies
They won
Were part of my son.
Poem from "Poetry for All Those Breathing" available at Buy "Poetry For All Those Breathing"
