A steady rain patters relentlessly on the windows and the roof. As steady as the tears she’s cried nightly for many many years. Her once young hands, now gnarled and old, wiped a tear off to the side and told her self she would not cry. A promise made so many times, but one she rarely kept. Her hands took to being busy now, smoothing a small blue blanket, one her son had had. The night he’d come home from the hospital, that night she’d held him in her arms and promised him the world. "Don’t make promises you can’t keep" her now much used cliché. Too bad today’s lessons can’t apply to yesterday. The soft blue cloth she’d held so many times, in her thoughts a purple heart. An honor her son never saw, he’d received it for that night. The night his momma lost him to land mines and to fate, all because our world has learned nothing but hate. Racism and segregation ring throughout our world. he had to try and show the world the love a man could feel. But he ended up a P.O.W., then a casualty of war. But he had save nine others, before he lost his fight. It was a fortnight and two weekdays before his momma knew. It crushed her that she’d lost her boy; he was only twenty-two. He wanted to be like his father, a soldier, a peace-keeper, and he was much like in these respects, but also in too many. Like his father he was missing in action, and like his father risked his like and lost the bet. So maybe she did give him the world, for all he ever wanted was to be like his father.
Reason for writing:
well, i don't know...i just sat down to write and this is what came out
Birth sign: Taurus
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