some nights when I’m quietly sleeping

I awake to find you softly weeping

grievous tears for the son that we had

who lost his life while still a lad

we taught him the necessity of war

never seeing that there was more

I dream of him and you and I and the place we’ll find in the sun

it’s no good to wonder why he had to go to fight,

to die

it’s no good to feel so numb

to think of those who killed our son

now we see what killed our boy

now we know what’s being destroyed

it’s nights like this that torture me so

when I kiss the wet tears from your eyes

I feel your sadness touching me so

as I try to explain all the lies

they gave us a star and our own silver cross

to show us that they care

as if they can pay for the son that we’ve lost

who’s lying in a grave somewhere

it’s just you and me now

to grow old and wrinkled and gray

til death’s release touches our brows

and we’ll be with our son someday

it was for freedom that he lost his life

so we’d have our cash over there

since war is good money and death pays the price

I guess we must all do our share.

© Sam Hyde

    03-21-71