By Thomas Caterer
His lips quivered and eyes were moist
as he spoke with great regret of the deaths
of so many troops, and so many were just boys
so many volunteered from local villages
looking for excitement or the chance to be men
trying to prove something to their absent gods
I grew to admire the Duke in the end
even though I’d been taught it was unwise to show weakness
he had unflinchingly displayed his vulnerability
for all the council and lieutenants to see
some scoffed that he cried like a woman
were they not moved that he cried more for their dead sons than they?
There was an exquisite beauty in those tear-stained cheeks
his old greying eyes had seen so much horror in his short human life
there was an undeniably intense strength in his willingness to admit to life’s weaknesses
there was irony that in being soft, he was harder than them all
having known pain he could not be shocked by it
instead of choosing the easy path of being cold,
he’d taken the tough decision to be warm
Notepad Stories 