My Baby Boy
They told him,"Freedom isn’t free"
He said, "Mom, it’s up to me.
I want the opportunity
For them to share our liberty."
He didn’t see the things we saw:
The lust for oil, disdain for law,
Abuse of youth, so green, so raw,
Absurdity of "shock and awe".
The idealism in his eyes
Could not comprehend the lies
So evident to the old and wise.
This is why a warrior dies.
He couldn’t tell me what he’d do,
Couldn’t share what he’d view.
"It’s awful, Mom." He knew I knew.
"I love you, Boy, and God does, too."
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That was the last time that we spoke,
Except the night that I awoke
To his strong voice. I got to stroke
His hair, and share one final joke.
"I love you ,Mom, and I’m alright,
But I have to go back tonight."
He swung me round, embrace so tight,
His smile so wide, his eyes so bright.
Then came my friend in his dress blues
Bringing me the dreaded news.
I should have recognized the clues
But, we believe the things we choose.
A hero you say, he always was
And honor is as honor does
And I will speak the truth because
He was my baby boy
Lorene Davey © 2006. All Rights Reserved
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