The Boy

When a baby boy was born form his mother’s womb

Celebration, elation, joy cried from the room.

Arty Moors Jr. was the name he was bestowed

A gift for the earth, destiny he showed.

At 2 he walked, at 3 he spoke

At 8 he was chatting with all-kind-of folk.

Arty protected the small and the great

He never deserved this kind of fate.

At 13 he was already an adept musician

Fearless, smart, he had a lot of ambition.

His piano and violin skills lacked nothing of greatness

His concerts shined with an outstanding brightness.

At 15 he won many accolades, ribbons and rewards

He wanted to go to college, something he just couldn’t afford.

Acing every class he could, he tried and tried to no avail

His dreams of an education would all end in a fail.

Despite life’s curve-balls he still managed to laugh

Untill, at 19, he was sent into the draft.

The Korean War was bloody, brutal, and wrong

And it went on, and on, it went on for too long.

Bombs were exploding, planes and bullets whizzed by

And in the corner of his eye, there was an injured guy.

Adrenaline rushed through him, he never felt more alive

He picked up the man, whilst saving his life.

Trying to save the man left him out in the open

Mud up to his knees, his spirit was never broken.

With a scream of defiance he wasn never defeated

Never bitter, begrudging, nor beaten.

Trudging along, with a need to fulfill it

All this ended — by a well aimed bullet…