And they laugh at me....and that's ok.

And they laugh at me.
What else can they do?
They will not cry with me,
not while others might see.
They are brave, they are boys.
They will shake their heads at me,
and roll their eyes at me.
But inside they will cry.
We get to the car and I say,
I need a moment to cry.
It was just a movie, they say.
A true story, I reply.
Real story, real pain and I know that pain,
and so I cry.
I cry for the mothers, for the families, and the wives left behind.
I see my boys laughing while one is missing.
My heart smiles,
I laugh and cry at the same time.
It's a strange combination,
sorrow and joy flowing from the same heart.
And they laugh with me, loud boisterous laughter,
sorrow and joy flowing from us all.