We sit at home and wonder why,
Those we love are taken away.
To fight in a war,
For our freedom they put their lives on hold for.
Staying up for days on end,
Wondering when he’ll see his family again.
Getting shot at as others are hit,
yet keeps moving forward with thoughts of loved ones to keep his wits.
Clutching the cross that hangs around his neck,
As he prays for the loss of those who have given their lives.
Hoping one day their loved ones can forgive him,
For not doing more to save their sons and bring them back to them.
Patrolling streets, searching for insurgents and terrorists,
Hoping that when he goes home he won’t need a therapist.
For dreams of those he's killed haunt his thought,
while only remorse and forgiveness he has sought.
Heavy gear is what he wears,
The same thing for weeks on end yet he can’t waste the time to care.
For the weapon he carries more important than his shirt,
Must stay clean and out of the dirt.
Hearing the gunfire, bombs and screams of the wounded,
And realizes he’ll be held over an extra two months.
GROUNDED
Waits for the mail to see if there’s a letter,
Holding it close as he smells his lover’s perfume.
A picture of a baby with eyes so bright,
Wondering if they’ll ever see him home to hold her tight.
Seeing the innocent tortured and killed,
Broken bodies lying all around.
Thoughts of his life thinking it could be his own,
And remembers why he’s fighting and hopes it will end soon.
Taking the time he gets to call home,
Making sure they know he’s alright as he tells them he‘ll be home soon.
For his wife she sits praying God will grant her one last wish,
For her husband and friends her wish be sent.
That they're safe,
And can be sent home before it’s too late.
~fighting for freedom~
1/18/08
By: Wings
