The Hillside
On a hillside in the North
a drummer boy marches
parading through flying lead
wading through marshes
Thrown in a war
he knows not about
he drums solemly
now there is doubt
In the back of his mind
an itch in his head
he pauses to think
and is a shot in the leg
Lead rushes through veins
but still he drums
Battle Hymn of the Republic
he quietly hums
Twelve years old
his world fades to black
he knows war is Hell
and there's no turning back
In the hillside of the South
a mother trembles
she opens a letter
with Union symbols
'I regret to inform you'
is all she can read
she knows what has happened
and falls to her knees
Her son is concerned
as he hears her cry
he runs from his room
and begins to eye
A package at the door
rips it open with his thumb
his brother had no job
but instead a Union drum
In an act of rage
he runs out the door
carrying the drum
[...] Read more
poem by William Blake Beckett
Added by Poetry Lover
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