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The Brave Son Of A Soldier

He was an elderly man of fifty-three,
when he left what mattered most to him...
his eight year old son.
He was only eight years old, when he lost
the only family he knew... his Father.
Now, he has to deal with his loss
from a little boy's way of hurting,
that most grown ups can't even face.
The services were sad, with many
friends to comfort him.
You could have heard a pin drop,
after the twenty-one gun salute.
Then the sobbing of a little boy, after
the flag was neatly folded, and handed to him.
A major choice was given to him,
a big choice, for such a small child...
the words on his Father's tombstone.
The little boy, pondered for awhile,
then he whispered in his sweet little voice,
the three little words... Rest In Peace.

This is a poem I wrote for a very dear little friend of mine,
Phillip Petit, who lost his Father on July 19th, 2000.
His Father raised him from a baby.

my e-mail address is lori0814@yahoo.com.

Poems and Proses submitted by the INTERNET COMMUNITY
to be shared with the World!!!

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