A boy little more than three seeing the world,
With a Soldier and a Mother by his sides.
This little boy nothing but what he was told,
But he knew he was leaving home while flying over the tides.
Time spent in this foreign land,
With nothing to lose and everything to gain.
At five he saw images of his Soldier in the sand,
And could scarcely understand what his eyes held, pain.
One year trudged by ,
Days were spent wishing on stars,
With the return it all felt like a lie.
Who was this man with newfound scars?
A total of eight years was spent with growing pains of mind and limb,
Until finally home was found with a family that was distant.
His own blood let lose the hounds of bullies upon him,
It was then he felt truly alone, in an instant.
Time continued its march ever on,
And as time moved forward the boy only felt cold.
A hand stretched down an angel of his own,
Thankfully with tears in his eyes he took hold,
Of the hand glowing with the warmth of friendship.
The years rolled by and he continued to grow and lose,
He found love and hurt.
All of this was normal a typical hardship.
And now here I sit reliving these moments,
That snatched my childhood from me.
Watching the film rolls behind my eyes,
Realizing that I have,
Been there and back again.
And it seems there is still more of a journey ahead.