I shined the light through the window
And didn't blink, and stood as a statue
Wondering if the boy was just below
The seat sleeping. I have seen a few
Deaths and all were in a state I know
Well; but the boy was sleeping in peace
As his face had no expression and his whole
Chest was not moving. Yet I couldn't cease
To check him, and my mind told me that the hole
In his head was a Hollywood movie; this is not real,
I have to check on the boy with the small wound
On his peaceful boyish face, sleeping, laying still.
Please be sleeping, peaceful sleeping under the moon,
Lighting the night as my flashlight began to tell
That he was sleeping, eternally sleeping. That Hollywood
Hole, so small, no blood until I saw the red trail,
And the trail of red told me he was dead. Dead? Would
Someone help me? I can't help the child, I can only stare
At that face of a baby and think of his mother. Not long
God was here for his soul; yet I imagine her despair
Almost equal to mine, that I keep inside and stay strong
Hoping I return home and release this pain alone, for I truly care.
This 'movie' was horror, and it remains a picture forever.......
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