ALL HEROES GO TO HEAVEN

An awkward teenage hand holds the shining metal at arms length,

Proudly it displays his name and age.

It is the touch of a kid, just a kid, going to war.

But he is not afraid for he knows

All heroes go to heaven.



A calloused thumb caresses gently over the metal inscribed name,

Indicating the identity of the neck from which it hung.

It is the hand of a mother tracing the hollow outline of her son.

But she is comforted to know

All heroes go to heaven.



A tear drops rolling across the metal carved characters,

It is the name of the boy who proudly wore it.

They are the tears of a wife and her unborn son over the father he'll never know.

But she knows they will meet again because

All heroes go to heaven.



A tiny fist clenched tightly over the now rusting piece of history,

The ghostly figures of a man long since dead.

It is the hand of a grandson, during the minute of silence.

Standing proudly for he knows

All heroes go to heaven.

Written By: Lauren Lavoie.

Home

Back To Poetry