Losing His Son

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Losing His Son

His oldest son was handsome, tall, also strong.
A champion with a trophy case of his own.
Each of the shelves filled with shining awards.
That case full with his dead son’s galore.

He said losing his son was so hard.
The ills of our world; cruel, filled with barbs.
Losing his favorite son wasn’t fair;
Living in misery left to him here.

His others not ranking with his oldest now dead.
Revealed to me, he shared that cold dread.
The one who won all those trophy’s now dead,
Left a pittance of pride to live on in his head.

So many years have passed since then.
His three other sons are now grown men.
Father is now with his oldest; he’s dead.
I pray to God, he is happy instead.{font}