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Poem

This year, at the holidays
of course, I miss home,
surrounded by sand dunes,
and Iraqi mosque-domes.

But I willingly came
to guard against fear—
not let terrorist conquer
everything I hold dear. 

I know my mom worries
about me over here
away from family, 
and good Christmas cheer.

And while I do miss
the fun and the fare,
I know I am fighting
for reasons most share— 

For Freedom, for Justice,
for our forefather’s plan,
for choices—God-given,
to every man. 

And for all you protester 
in the streets of your city,
looking upon me 
with hatred and pity,

I’m fighting for you 
to have that skewed right
to act like a fool—
burn our flag in plain sight,

For our children to prosper
without boot in their back,
and patriots guiding them,
to stay on the right track!

It’s not just our training,
but a true state of mind—
to be honest and faithful,
and love all mankind. 

I’d gladly lay down
all I can give—
my life and my soul
so that others may live.

And to let every man pray 
to the God he sees fit,
tho, I may not agree,
he’s entitled to it.

My sons and my daughters
may not know it yet,
but I fight for their future,
and have no regret.

So celebrate Christmas 
in your own merry way,
and please send a prayer
we’ll come home one day—

When this war is over,
we’ve finally won,
we’ve conquered the terrorists—
sent ‘em all on the run.

Americas worth it—
all this sacrifice,
and, Mom, don’t you worry
‘cause I wouldn’t think twice.

I’d do it again—
even die in the sand
for Freedom and Liberty,
for we MUST take a stand. 

“Merry Christmas—Blessed New Year,”
to all, I now say,
and, “Thank you, dear Jesus— 
have a Happy Birthday!”


           Tamara Hillman
                 ©2010

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