Veteran’s Day

This is for all those veterans out there and all those who lost their lives defending this country.

Every year,

my mother brought me here,

to say a word,

at his grave.

 

For my father lies here,

killed in a war,

long forgotten,

by all who care.

 

But I do not know him,

for I was born,

shortly before he died,

a legacy to his pride.

 

Every year,

we visited without fail,

my mother still cries,

of how she loved him,

 

Years passed with incident,

I graduated from school,

without much thought,

along with my friend who fought.

 

He thought we should join the Marines,

to see foreign lands,

and live our dreams,

beautiful girls with means.

 

But one day,

he fell in love,

and married her there,

on the whim of a dove.

 

We both walked up,

to the recruiting office,

to commit ourselves,

to honor and country.

 

The day came,

when we were due to leave,

his new wife was there,

and pleading.

 

For she was expecting,

their first child,

while we were in boot camp,

speaking mild.

 

The drill sergeant met us,

at the front of the bus,

screaming at us,

calling us names.

 

Forcing us to run,

to pick up our gear,

never stopping,

until we were there.

 

Days became weeks,

as the drills continued,

always running here and running there,

ready to take on to the next thrill not knowing where.

 

Graduation came at last,

and he saw his son and his wife,

with a glance,

waiting to spend some time in his life.

 

But soon the time was done,

and we were sent over,

to police a land,

covered in sand.

 

Day after day,

more of the same,

with nothing to do,

but play the game.

 

Then one day,

came the word,

that we would have action this day,

shots had been fired far away.

 

We travel all day,

and into the next,

before we reached the site,

of the current conflict.

 

Shots rang out,

over our heads,

as we struggled down,

wishing we were still in our beds.

 

We fired back,

with a loud recourse,

hit nothing either,

with no force.

 

Back and forth,

the bullets flew,

soon someone was struck,

then there was two.

 

But still we continued,

this senseless battle,

killing none of the enemy,

and ours getting hurt badly.

 

Then the sergeant shouted,

for us to charge,

maybe then they will run,

and we can have some fun.

 

But bullets flew at us,

as we ran,

and then I was struck,

in the knee then.

 

I fell down to the ground,

screaming in pain,

my friend got down,

to move me out of range.

 

But then he was shot,

and he dropped like a rock,

in the back,

whispering what.

 

I crawled over to hear,

what he had to say,

but then I was shocked,

of what he whispered to me that day.

 

Then he was gone,

because he just passed away,

and someone came along,

to patch my wound and ease the pain.

 

The will to fight,

left me that day,

and then the sergeant came,

to have me escort my friend.

 

Back to the states,

to rest in his grave,

to comfort his wife,

carrying the second.

 

She cried as I came that day,

Knowing that she would never see again,

And wondering how to live without him,

I comforted her as best as I could.

 

I still needed surgery,

to correct my knee,

but I hobbled the best,

to show them what he meant to me.

 

At the funeral,

the flag was handled with care,

and an officer presented the flag,

with all sincerity and flair.

 

After he was laid to rest,

I was operated on to repair the knee,

but she always visited me,

day after day she came to see.

 

In the private,

we would consul each other,

 she was the mother,

of two children from my brother.

 

For we were as close as brothers,

in those last days,

and I would have no other,

for the good times and the bad.

 

Months past,

as I slowly improved,

and every day,

she was there to improve my mood.

So one day,

I told her the last words he told me,

to take care of his family,

and to be the father he couldn’t be.

 

With that said,

we were married within the week,

to be the family,

that he wanted for me.

 

On every Veteran’s day,

We would visit his grave,

To show  him his kids,

And how much they had grown.

 

Now I know what my mother,

wanted me to see,

that his son,

had grown to be what he wanted to be.

 

I walked with a limp,

to my father’s grave,

to show him my family,

and how much I had changed.

 

Never give up,

those dreams,

for they will guide you,

to where you will be.