Don'T Cry Momma
You call me a boy, because you feel you should.
But, I'm a man Momma and made my decisions because I could.
There will come a time when every boy leaves his home.
Walks out the door and into life, returning a man of his own.
I knew where I was going and what I had to do.
It was about what I believe Mom, not about you.
Everyone has a calling, a duty they need to fill.
Mine was to honor our Country, and I believe in that still.
Though the war I fought was not on our land.
Many of nights I slept with one eye open laying in the sand.
Mom, I know it's hard for you to understand.
But, given the chance I would do it again.
To see such sights our minds could hardly comprehend.
How could a country be so down and afraid to rise again.
Could you turn down a child, begging for food?
His family's bodies lie in the distance, what would you do?
To watch a woman, afraid to show her face.
For the fear of death Mom, it's madness in this place.
To see emptiness in a man's eye's, his fight has long been gone.
I wanted to help these people! They should have back their homes!!
Don't call me a boy Mom, 'cause it's the boy I'm fighting for.
So he can sleep in a bed instead of dirt as a floor.
To hear the sounds of laughter not bombs in the air.
Shouldn't a women have the right to show her own hair?
Oh, Mom we have it made, just look at you on the President's lawn.
Talking about your little boy, how you go on and on.
The school pictures, the birthday's, the free life I led.
While others are fighting Mom, to not wake up dead!
You plaster my picture all over TV.
Why, Mom, why would you do this to me?
Don't cry Momma, I'm not a boy and I did look both ways.
Please say you're proud of how I spent my last days.
Your son went to make a difference and though my stay was brief.
I died doing what I believed in, maybe that can comfort your grief.
Let me rest in peace Mom, stand tall and honor my name.
And speaking for all of those here, tell their families to do the same.
Copyright © Joy Freeman | Year Posted 2005
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