Small Hands, Small Feet
Her life is not one of shopping malls,
those fancy purses, and shoes to match.
No her life is not fifty dollar hair cuts, and
manicures, followed with a pedicure, to show off her
french style toenails.
Her parents didn't buy her a new BMW for
graduation, with a tag on front, that reads,
money.
Hers is a life of fighting for the freedom to
be able to keep the right to do all these things,
hers is an American Soldier.
Her camaflouge is the going thing, and her
Humvee is the only vehicle she drives these days.
She can't sleep late on the weekends, and watch TV
all day, then get ready for a night on the town, hoping
that cute boy in one of her classes ask her out.
No hers is early to bed, early to rise, and her friends
in her unit are always watching her back.
The choice she made to give her all, came without
hesitation, she answered the call.
Discipline she has learned, through many a tough call,
and being a soldier gives her great pride, these things are
not found at the mall.
Small feet, small hands, ready to fight, no matter the
time, day or night.
Copyright © Christy Hardy | Year Posted 2007
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment