The Man in the Middle
Lives
Appearing as a dark fog drifting from hole to hole
Death, devastation, and destruction shrouded
The sacred ground where demonic fiends
Methodically pierced the hearts of the mutilated
Silent are loud bombs, rattling guns, exploding grenades as
Aromas of sulfur, blood, and guts saturate the air along
with
Coalescing cries of pain, pleas for help, and begging God
Become quiet as the grim reaper surveys the carnage
Enthusiastic agents of death with spikes of demise
See three in another death pit to add to their trophies
Two disfigured youth had given the ultimate sacrifice as
Death laughed when his urchins penetrated their silent
hearts
One urchin twisted his lethal tool deep into victim’s heart
As his partner made a noxious jab in the other victim’s
heart
Shielded by the prayers of a mother on her knees and far
away
Her son lies motionless beneath two that died to set people
free
Petrified, the son deciphered enemy idiom concerning his
plight
With devious confidence, the urchin replies the third one is
ours
Blinded buoyancy does not allow them to see the young man’s verve
Death cannot and will not eradicate a mother’s prayer and
true life
Anonymous and gone are the two who shielded the man in the
middle
Eternal are the praying mother and the son whom she loved
Always present are the agents of evil seeking to kill and
destroy
A praying nation will continue to bolster the red, white,
and blue
The man in the middle left a legacy behind through his
children
Teaching them to be responsible citizens for freedom is not
free
My daddy was the man in the middle. Private Mitchell Clark Hopper fought under
General Patton in North Africa and Italy Italy
Receiving official word that dad was killed in action,
Granny Hopper said, “No. He is alive. I
am praying for him.”
No comments:
Post a Comment