My Father's Poem

In WW2 homes that had sacrificed a son or husband put a gold star in the window to show the world the ultimate sacrifice.

I saw a dying brother bleed out.
I watched a madman kill his flock.
Parades celebrated the funerals.
Little boys masquerading as men
played war. Real men died for mud.
Loved ones prayed their rosaries.
No prayers were ever answered on
our street. Gold stars filled sad
windows. Widows cried in private.
They never wanted to dance again.

Reviews

[Wojja]

The imagery in this is fabulous. I was there, and saw that street. For me the standout line that stuck with me was this:
Little boys masquerading as men
played war
and spaced exactly like that as well, to get that pause which gives it such effect.

Great write William