Won't come back home this time

(I have a thing for writing about soldiers. Somehow its more fascinating each time. This is another tribute to them)


It gets late, and off go the city lights,
So do the laughter, and the fights,
Ten thousand homes, all getting ready,
For bed time, nightdresses and stories,
A cosy little world, it thunders outside,
Dina shakes in her bed, little eyes wide,
Momma will daddy get wet? Will he be fine?
Does he have a bed and does he sleep on time?

Daddy's at the border, rifle in hand,
Shivering in his boots, but at his stand,
There's tension over the mile, bombs erupting,
Momma knows that, still, she keeps smiling,
And says daddy's a super man, he takes his rest,
And when they need him the most, he gives his best.
Dina says her prayers, and closes her eyes,
Momma kisses her forehead, and puts off the lights.

Meanwhile, daddy is in battle now, the bombs are closer
And the gunshouts louder, and now one on his shoulder.
He is bleeding now, and he falls to the ground with a slump,
A bullet in his body, throbbing, a fatal mettalic lump,
And daddy knows he's seen the last of Dina and his wife
And he's trembling now, just trying to hold on to his life,
As it slips away, he prays 'God let Dina grow up right',
And a few minutes later, daddy passes away, into the night.

Momma gets the news when Dina is at school,
She closes her eyes, and the world begins to whirl,
And she knows she can't tell Dina, some things can't be told,
You can't say daddy's gone forever to a four year old,
And so at night, the world watches TV at the end of the day,
About movies, cricket, ministers, and whats 'hot' today,
Dina is in bed, thinking her superman daddy is doing just fine,
And in the darkness, momma cries the night away,
For she knows daddy won't be back home this time.