He Cried Poem by Randy McClave

My dad, he cried
For all the people that died,
All from his call
All of them to their death did fall.
They were old and they were young
Many were unsung,
They were parents and they were pregnant
He was their regnant.
They were women and they were men
With and without any sin,
They were also children and the unborn
They too felt his scorn.
My dad he cried every night
From the horrible deeds and sight,
All the evil that he and others had done
He still asks and seeks forgiveness from the son.
Pregnant women all did scream
When they lost their dream,
Life they weren't sent to preserve
They were ordered and sent to obey and serve.
He followed a command
As would a doctor with their degrees in hand,
He followed an solemn oath taken
Which would never be ignored or forsaken.
He also carried medicine and also pills
To calm and to steady his skills,
A knife he did also carry
He wasn't a doctor, but a soldier in the military.

Randy L. McClave