Morning

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An old man rest in his slumber. His frail, tired body lies still. A cough erupts from his damaged lungs. Slowly, he peels himself from the warmth of his bed. The shack that his lives in is cold and drafty. One room with all the necessity's in life is all this hero gets, his thanks for his service to the world. He pushes on his glasses allowing him the misfortunate of seeing clearly the shack he calls home. Every morning he questions if it was worth it, if those lives changed anything. With fighting one enemy, another, less suspect, enemy slipped right in and damned them all. He shuffles to the window, feet turning blue from the sheer cold of the wooden floor. As he stands at the window staring, he is awestruck by the view. It isn't much of a view, but it is enough to give an old man hope. Hope for a better tomorrow, for a better future for his grandchildren. One that isn't filled with poverty. He is taken back to a time where he can escape todays chaos, reliving the moments of joy that once filled his life.

Created: Mar 30, 2012

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