Political Pawn

War toys

War abroad

Her little boy

A Dixie plate

And plastic spoons

Outside she sat

One afternoon

A country divided

Food stamps provided

His favorite meal she cooked

Oblivious she looked

Apple pie sits on the table

Between the house and the stable

Smiling unaware

A single tear

Slides down her cheek

It's been one week

A chopper crashed

It's on the news

The phone rings

She dashes

Confused,

Smash

The only love she had left is gone

She wanted him home

He refused to return

Memories and thoughts of pain

Wipe a contempt smile, dazed she fades

Two more tears

Fall down her cheek

She thinks of him

And begins to weep

School

Red Cross

Army

Gone

"My son,

A political pawn?"

Anger

Hatred

Frustration

Deceit

Patriotic fervor

fuel by Washington's elite

Thoughts of a young boy

Playing with his war toys

On the picnic table

Eating apple pie

To die before old glory tarnished

It now flies ragged since he vanished

The crying stops

The wind stops blowing

Her heartbeat stops

Going

Gasp

She's on the grass

Seeing clouds

No life flashes

Not a tunnel

Or pearly gates

Just his voice

A little faint

It's what he said

When he'd joined the army

But it's in the voice of little Tommy

"I love you, Mommy"

Now she smiles

The hate is gone

Her last words

"I love you, Tom"