The Four Concerned

The Man
He lies forgotten 'neath the watching skies,
The blood upon his bayonet scarlet bright;
The red moon shining in his glazed eyes,
The 'Last Post' crying, crying in the night.

The Woman
She proudly sits within her home of gloom,
And reads and reads his line with wistful smile,
Then, eyes aglisten, seeks the empty room.
(And he within his bloody grave the while.)

The Child
His wooden war-horse stands beside his bed.
His tiny pillow holds a head of gold.
He dreams of all the things his father said,
He dreams of all the tales his father told.

The Officer
He slowly trudges up the stairs.
With a heavy heart to knock on the door,
To pay his respects of the event so un-rare,
By delivering the news, the bitterness of war.

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