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IT'S MY POETRY LIFE
by poetry

previous entry: nojomo 10

next entry: nojomo12 + childhood in america

nojomo 11 + war time poem

11/11/2010

1. If you could go back in time and change anything, would you or wouldn't you? What would you change?

I think I would, as much as my heart would disagree, earn my master's in social work instead of counseling. A socialworker can do counseling but a counselor cant do social worker jobs. Plus there are a lot more social workers around so it's easier to get supervision.
I would prob be a licensed social worker by now and then some.

2. What does Remembrance Day/Veterans Day/Armed Forces Day mean to you?
My grand father faught in WWII.
My brother's best friend is in the airforce
My best friend's sister is in the army.
My older brother's close friend is in the army.

We should all take a moment to reflect and remember and apreciate the freedom we have and the people in the past and the present who has faught and continues to fight for libity which we take for granted.

76. war time poem
01/20/2007
War time poem
This is in memory of the lady who recently went over to the Middle East to give talks about peace. It was on her way back from one of her speeches that
she and 3 guards were shot down, just out side of the base.

Today I stand proud to fight for my country
Standing tall in my uniform defending old glory.
We, young men and women, are shown a new door.
Standing shoulder to shoulder, we are sent off to war.

Leaving my family behind
Kissing my wife, telling her it will be fine
Giving my parents hugs
Than my little brother, he is a doctor, working with drugs
Everyone is weeping
As I am leaving

Walking off the plane, met with oppressive heat
After a 13 hour flight, I feel beat.
I am shown my light cotton bed
I lay down, “god bless my family” I say in my head.

smash
crash
Shattered glass

My eyes flew open, We were being ambushed
I reached for my gun and with my finger on the trigger I pushed
My gun was not loaded, there was no round.
I thought quick and dove to the ground.
It did not matter, I was still found.

Laying here wounded, this world I don’t know
Cause a few shots to my head
I know I am dead

With blinding light, I open my eyes.
To realize that yes, I have died.

I am being laid to rest with my uniform of meddles, my gun being laid on my chest
At my funeral, “He died defending the country. He was the best.”
“He was a great soldier and even a greater person.”
“He was always helping out, with a smile, that’s my son.”

My eulogy was said, by my younger brother.
The loudest sobs, came from my mother.
“He was a great person, but even a greater family man.
Always excited to make family plans.
I recall one Christmas, not too long ago
We had our annual family party, he did not think he could show.
At the stroke of seven, we all heard a noise at the back door.
The house became silent, even the kids playing on the floor.
And with a loud “HO HO HO” and a “MERRY CHRISTMAS” we knew
For it was my brother dressed in red, two large bags of gifts for the entire crew.”
My brother wept, and then continued
“I know you were proud, to defend the red white and blue.
I am proud of you, even more.
With family and friends, coworkers and strangers gathered, I must not ignore
I thank you all for coming here today
To pay your respect to my older brother, GOD BLESS MY BROTHER AND THE GOOD OLD U! S! A!”

previous entry: nojomo 10

next entry: nojomo12 + childhood in america

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Once again...I have cried while reading one of your poems. You're amazing.

[Scarlett's Mommy|0 likes] [|reply]

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