I shot a man yesterday…

I rarely like poetry. Too much of it, even among the pieces held up as worthy by those supposedly in the know, is far too self indulgent. Writing might have therapeutic side effects, but it still isn’t therapy. Anyway, here’s one of the exceptions…

I shot a man yesterday

And much to my surprise,

The strangest thing happened to me

I began to cry.

He was so young, so very young

And Fear was in his eyes,

He had left his home in Germany

And came to Holland to die.

And what about his Family

were they not praying for him?

Thank God they couldn’t see their son

And the man that had murdered him.

I knelt beside him

And held his hand–

I begged his forgiveness

Did he understand?

It was the War

And he was the enemy

If I hadn’t shot him

He would have shot me.

I saw he was dying

And I called him “Brother”

But he gasped out one word

And that word was “Mother.”

I shot a man yesterday

And much to surprise

A part of me died with Him

When Death came to close

His eyes.

By James Lenihan