Poem #10

The thinker looked up, and he set down his pen.
His work here was done, and he solved every one.
His last words had read:  Who will defend?

The pad was his mind, within it, his friend.
He let himself go, chased down by the gun.
The thinker looked up, and he set down his pen.

He knew who to trust, when it came to the end.
When they pulled out the triggers, he knew he would run.
His last words had read:  Who will defend?

Every last thought, they had said was a trend.
His eyes would glance up, and one look would stun.
The thinker looked up, and he set down his pen.

He licked all the letters, the ones he would send.
He winced at the sky, unfazed by the sun.
His last words had read:  Who will defend?

All of his thoughts, he knew would upend,
The acts of those who relied on his son.
The thinker look up, and he set down his pen.
His last words had read:  Who will defend?