This is a poem I wrote a while back. I am from a military family and this is personal. Please don't take it offensive and let me know what you think.
Six months gone by
Every day the mailman never stops
Momma crys at night, she thinks we don't hear her
My brother wears his t-shirt to bed
But I stay up to write another letter
Sitting on the front porch step
I watch the mailman slowy stop
Put a letter in the box
Look up and give me a little wink
Running across the lawn
I open up the mail box to find
A letter from Dad
He said everthing wasn't fine
They lost another soldier
Don't know how much longer he'll be gone
The war just keeps going on
Momma put the letter in a box
Told us it was special
I layed down for the night
And wrote another letter
A letter to Dad
Got a call at midnight, it wasn't dad
Momma curled up in a ball
And cried for him
She came and woke me up
To tell me what was wrong
My brother doesn't understand
But soon he will
We called the family to spread the news
Sadness filled the rooms
They never told us the details
We didn't know what was wrong
How bad or how long,
He'd be gone
It was seven weeks to the day
When he came home to stay
A man haunted and strange
A man he still was
Idolized and loved yet distant and broken
Sentanced to die from the wounds he lived through
The fallen haunt him and the anger consumes his very being
We never know when he will be standing or awake
Or whether he will smile or praise,
And momma stands by his side day after day
As we wait for him to pass away,
Then again momma will only have his letters
To cling to once again,
As a gold star will fly above the window
To symbolize the suffering of the widow
Yet the only thing left then, will be the flag
That draped the coffin
Sitting upon the mantle piece
Beside it we see,
A letter from Dad
-JB
