He smiled and waved,
teeth white with lies,
eyes straining against the summer sun.
He was a hero now, stopping terror in its tracks,
beloved by all.
He did not see her April eyes
until the bullet pierced his heart.
He saw the crowd begin to run,
and the floor embrace him.
He saw her fall
and eyes met eyes in silence,
then she was pulled away.
He shed a silent, burning tear
for the mother.
Author notes
Part 3 in my unnamed cycle for my final project in my Creative Writing class.
Written November 11th, 2006
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