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Schmaltzy poetry


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My grandson's class in Christianity (Catholic High School)had a story about a Vietamese school that got mortar shelled, some deaths, some wounded, and one girl bleeding to death when a first aid team arrived to help. One uninjured boy volunteered his blood for the girl, and I have set it to a doggerel poem for your dinner and dancing pleasure:



Song of Heng


From the sky

Some bombs and shells hit a school

Tell us why

One girl lay sobbing bleeding

Hear her cry


With a sigh

Medics shook their heads and then

Told us why

Of blood there is no supply

Hear her cry


She will die

Unless someone gives blood now

We can try

If someone gives their blood now

Or she?ll die


Heng was shy

But raised his hand, take my blood

Heard her cry

They prepped and took blood for her

From this guy


Little guy

He cried and steeled his body

He could try

He would save the little girl

Hear him cry


Little guy

Is it painful, the needle

Hear him cry

Is it pain, the needle?s jab

Makes him cry


Tell us why

You stiffened and sobbed so

Tell us why

You sweated and shivered so

Tell us why


Little guy

He had expected to die

That is why

He?s amazed he?s still alive

What a guy


Little guy

Thought they would take all his blood

That is why

He?s relaxed and smiling now

Did not die


Oh, Heng, why

If you thought that you would die

Tell us why

Did you raise and wave your arm

Tell us why


She?s my friend was his reply

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