A Boy, In Passing

Poem By Ben Bump

His eyes follow me...
Stunted growth...I can't judge his age,
but I have regrets older than him.

His innocence stolen by conflict,
I search for something to give back...
MRE's become my tokens of empathy.

What existence will he carve from stone?
Where would I find him the day before I die?
That night in a dream he is my son.

Comments about A Boy, In Passing

Ben I nice work with an usual message 10
wonderful poem, nice portrait..........


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THE AIR
use adequate ventilation
THE WATER
contains petroleum distillates

The Secret Spot

Time was against us...
I prepared you so well, I neglected to prepare myself.
Bundled in layers you didn't even need,
another's warmth would soon find you.

Backseat

We took that long ride together,
Both of us driving on through the night…
Gently sliding into the curves,
Subtle hills, and softest valleys.