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

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