TwentyThree
The towns people made enough donations
To buy a house with all the ramps and
hallways wide enough for a wheelchair
after he came home from Afghanistan
his arms and legs still there
he was twentythree
It was the least they could do
TwentyFour
Crowds gather on the bridges
That cross over the 401
waving flags and saluting
crying even
as the hearse goes by
His mother is not here
They take picture with their phones and sing
Oh Canada
Oh Kandahar
another soldier from across the world
they believe the body inside is a hero
dead soldiers always seem to be
inside is only the torso
Tonight and for the rest of her life
his mother will be without a son
TwentyFive
There is a man on my tv
selling holy water
20$ a vial
It will make you rich, it will saaave yur lifea
It will maa-ake miracleaza
These things are not miracles
and I already know
Water is sacred
Author’s Bio: David Groulx was raised in the Northern Ontario mining community of Elliot Lake. He is proud of his Aboriginal roots – his mother is Ojibwe Indian and his father French Canadian.
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David is a member of the League of Canadian Poets, as well as a member of The Ontario Poetry Society. He recently won the 3rd annual PoetryNOW Battle of the Bards. His poetry has appeared in a 115 publications in England, Australia, Germany, Austria, Turkey, New Zealand and the USA. He lives in a log home near Ottawa, Canada.
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