I wish that I ’d wrote this when I was five years old.
When I was a big boy yet small enough to hold.
I held a coloring book in my hands
and anticipation in my heart
I can remember moving…
How moved I was when I was seven and two towers fell and one plane crashed into the pentagon
and I wondered why someone would want to hurt a shape-
why would anyone want to separate these United States.
There are times in which I wish that I could go back to age nine
when I realized the difference between military and civilian kids for the first time.
because while they were crying for attention, I just cried!
Tears of pain poured piercing at my narrow soul like a broad sword
because I wasn’t able to accept the fact that my dad was going to fight in a pointless war
sometimes, I felt remorse when the news spoke of a decorated soldier…
I pictured a colorful corpse!
I was too young to completely understand the concept of death ,of course
but old enough for life to be valued, and to recognize God’s force
I was twelve when my dad was deployed;
distraught because I thought that my father’s life would be stopped
my mother sought
to comfort me
explaining that dad’s job ensured his safety
but evil is unpredictable
what if he didn’t return home safely
“Hey, your dad’s in the Army, what kind of gun does he have?”
“I don’t know, the best”
I didn’t want to show that my stress
was weighing down on my chest like a bullet-proof vest
I had to keep it on because my mind wasn’t bullet proof, yet
“How do bullets shoot?”
“Straight through your last breath”
I guess…
“When’s your dad coming home?”
“When the bad guys don’t have any bullets left.”
I decided to distract myself with deviant acts
until my dad came back from Iraq
Ma was sick and tired
she really couldn’t handle me
the discipline was gone
‘cause dad couldn’t put his hands on me
looking back I was wrong
taking my fear of suicide bombs
out on my mom
despite my efforts to break away
she stayed “Army Strong”
clinging tight to my heart
my household heroine carried me along
Military moms…
manifest a different type of love
I’m glad that I’ve finally written this down
Because now
I’m seventeen
and I could follow in his footsteps to make my father
proud
Earn my wings instead so that I can reach greater heights
and inspire to increase further turning of dark days
into bright nights
to remind soldiers with little soldiers
to hold them closer
because as we all know a vets job is never over.