Untitled

Somewhere 

A toddler sits in tears 

At a breakfast table 

With his mother. 

"Mum, 

When is he coming back?"

His mother, 

Stares at him, blank eyed, 

Stifles a sigh

And lies:

"Son, 

I'll let you in

On a little secret:

He won't be back in a while 

Because he

Is a Superhero!"

A white lie 

But a lie

Nonetheless.

Several countries away

A soldier lies in a trench 

Battered and bruised 

Wilting like a dried flower 

Waiting for Death's cold embrace.

The little child looks up, 

Beaming:

"What kind of hero?"

"Well, 

He fights the bad guys. 

And he had to go to the moon 

On a super secret mission. 

It'll be some time 

Before he's allowed

Back."

The soldier,

Sensing his life

Leaving him, 

Clutches his chest, 

And grimaces:

"God, give my family strength, 

To move on."

His last words:

A silent prayer. 

Just before he passed

On.

A huge grin on his face, 

The boy exclaims, 

Jubilant:

"When I grow up, 

I'm gonna be a hero

Too, 

Just like daddy!"

Even as she fought back tears, 

His mother chanced upon 

A realization:

Her husband may have died

A statistic;

One of many numbers, 

The byproducts of cruel

Cruel war. 

And what she had said earlier 

May have been but

Pacifying words

To soothe

An ailing heart

That didn't know, that wouldn't understand. 

But every bit of it was true:

Her husband, her sons father, 

Was truly a hero. 

Always was, 

Always will be.