When I was a young boy

I had a smile on my face

that never went away

until I saw Newsreels

of Mussolini and Hitler.

Father scared me when he said

they might be coming after us.

If they came to my house,

I planned to stick my foot out,

trip one, and hook him with my

daredevil fishing lure.

I would shoot him in the eye

with my Daisy Red Ryder B-B gun

like my mother said never to do,

and have my fat little brother

sit on his head until he cried: “Uncle!”

I never knew there was going to be

so much dying and crying.

It wiped the smile right off my face.