Price Soldiers Pay Poem by White Slash

The words from the soldier,
Caring a rifle still echo through her mind,
'Mama your son is the town hero you should be proud.'
As they handed the folded American flag to her,

For her to have and to hold.
It lay against her chest as shivers went up her spine.
Hugging it tight as if she held it tight enough,
She would make him breath again.
Her heart barley beat to the tune of it breaking,
With unshed tears and the combination of the weeks of fears.

A flag was used to lure away her 19 year old son,
To fight a war that was not to be won.
He had come home in peace,
At last to stay but maybe,
Her son could have came back in something,
Other then a coffin.