He was just a kid And cried when they drafted him -- To send him across: He who had never been further away From home in all his life Than the county seat Twenty miles away. Blind with tears, he stumbled aboard The train that took him away While the Widow Price watched... Killed in action! Bud, who couldn't bear to see a chicken's neck wrung! Stony-eyed, she watched the other women With their letters from the War Department And their Gold Stars. Not for her. They dragged him to his death, she said, And he jest a young'un not knowing what it was all about, And he died jest like a rat in a trap, Jest as your own boys died. But now that they've dun it They ain't a-goin' to come to Me And try to make it right By giving @3me@1 any Gold Star And think it'll make @3me@1 feel proud ... | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...DEVASTATION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON NIGHTS WITHOUT SLEEP by SARA TEASDALE PSALM 139 by OLD TESTAMENT BIBLE EPITAPH FOR SIR PHILIP SIDNEY, AT ST. PAUL'S WITHOUT A MONUMENT ... by EDWARD HERBERT ULTIMA THULE: MY CATHEDRAL by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW DE RERUM NATURA: BOOK 3. AGAINST THE FEAR OF DEATH by TITUS LUCRETIUS CARUS FITZ-GREENE HALLECK, AT THE UNVEILING OF HIS STATUE by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER |