Two nights before Christmas
When we went to bed
As sugar plums danced
in our younger son’s head
Our oldest was up
he’d been kept awake
by too much soda, ice cream and cake
Suddenly, he heard a whimpering sound
so through the dark house he began looking around
Someone was crying
when in fact it was me
I was having a dream as real as could be
Every detail of this nightmare intact
I dreamed that my child was killed in Iraq
But he opened our door and the hinges they squeaked
Assured he was fine I fell back to sleep
But for the parents of others who’ll never come home
Christmas now means they’ll just feel more alone.
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2 comments:
Well said. I worry about my 2 boys as well. I'm hoping this all ends soon and we focus on making the world a better, safer place.
It's a true story, every line.
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