the aftermath

The worst was supposed to be over. Or at least that's what they told her...as the dirt filled that empty hole in the earth that would now be his final resting place. That hole was so deep, but no where near as deep as the one that was now growing each day in her heart. She clutched tight to the baby. The bastard child. The son who would never know the scent of his father's cologne, or feel the sting of his fathers' belt on his back side the day he decides to speak out of turn. Even with the flag folded nicely on his favorite leather couch, she still feels betrayed. Yes, he wanted to serve his country...and she's proud, but she doesn't think America deserved the blood of her only son, not a one of them was worthy of the tears that she has been holding back...refusing to shed. And now there's talk that the war is over. The smoke has finally cleared, but not in her eyes. She looks around and only sees death and destruction in the distance. The war is now over, but her heart...in the aftermath, knows that it is just now preparing to fight in the ultimate battle. Her heart cries, but she refuses to be defeated.......

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