A Selfless Act Poem by Greg Beattie

The pent-up sailors took Market Street
From warships months at sea
And the women from the warehouses
Poured out to their victory.

And my mother met my father
Fate sealed there and then
Youth, hope and maybe love
That would not visit them again.

And I, the child that came too soon,
Am the reason they became
A thousand tears called family
That tried, and failed, and blamed.

And I tell their Polaroid smiles it's only
Pealing bells make your hearts swirl,
Back to Buffalo, homesick boy.
Back to work, you young sweet girl.