Invincible Boy
Your dream as a parent
is to create.
Your little ones
rise up... grow
and stretch, stepping
on the old carpet;
"Look, ma, no hands."
Scaling mountainous stairs,
creating beautiful art.
They bloom
and grow.
They grow to be so strong,
they seem Invincible.
You watch
your Invincible boy grow up so fast,
and before you know it
they're leaving you... for school.
Sitting on the fuzzy
blue carpet.
Smiling.
His eyes light up as he connects
and makes friends
and listens
absorbing his teacher's words like a sponge.
Someone else is in charge.
Elementary, Middle, High...
They grow taller,
older.
Suddenly, they stay standing.
Those hands that once grasped yours
now shake the hands of their
new teacher, Mr. Sam.
Those hands that once grasped yours
now grip the instrument of an effortless kill.
Someone else is in charge.
Marching alongside the mountainous steel tanks
firing only a few yards away
from those precious ears...
Crying is heard back home.
They belong to death, now.
They stand for meaningless killing,
and why?
Only a simple misunderstanding,
but it has murdered
your Invincible Boy.