On his fathers knee

Whimsically he played,
On his fathers knee
Blind to the blatant truth,
This world of debris.

Sirens clogged the night air
Shrapnel filled his cot
His mother lay asleep
Or had she been shot?

The only loving man
Left in this damned place
Sat his child on his knee
And kept a plain face.

While deep inside he broke,
Broke beyond repair,
He wouldn’t tell the boy
He just stroked his hair.

The child bounced up and down,
On his fathers knee.
Men advanced through the streets,
Chasing those who flee.

The windows disappeared,
In a sea of glass
Bullets painted the walls,
Spattered them with brass.

The door burst in.

The bouncing stopped.