Colin F. Jones


Self Sorrow for the death of a brother,
Guilt residing within for another,
That I fear to tell his sweet Mother,
The truth that caused him to die.
As soldiers we practiced together,
Trained through all sorts of weather,
Held steadfast by an umbilical tether
Why should I prefer to lie.
The truth it deserves the telling,
Over fear the urge is compelling,
But still I can hear him yelling,
“Oh God!” I hear him cry.
Though his loss is greater for Mother,
His death lives in his brother.