David R. “Poppa” Alexander

FOUR HEARTS

Three hearts dripping blood and tears
Three hearts loving through the years
Three hearts knowing not what was to come
Three hearts beating as one drum

One heart oozing blood and foam
One heart lying so far from home
One heart still as a desert night
One heart no longer able to fight

Three hearts a child, mother and a wife
One heart a father, son and to her the meaning of life
Four hearts stilled for one brief time
One heart dead without reason or rhyme

Three hearts never seeing the bullets call
One heart feeling the searing pain inside as he began to fall.
Three hearts stopped with the evening mail
One heart stopped by a snipers bullet that told the tale

One heart remembering as its life drained away
One heart passing without even time to pray
Three hearts praying for their father, son and spouse
Three hearts breaking with the news of the enemy ruse

Four hearts knowing he served his country well
Three hearts praying the news was wrong
and he would soon be home from that hell.
One heart wings itself toward eternal peace
Three hearts prays that this hurt will soon cease

One heart a soldier from which country it matters not
One heart now travels a journey on his record not even a blot
Three hearts sorrow shared by all
Grieves for one heart whose name is scrawled on a wall