Son, you know my heart is aching
Even though I cannot say.
For, I might make you feel bad
And I’d never act that way.
There are some things a man must answer,
A call and we must go.
We laboured hard for this free land.
We’ve battled many foes.
Every night I think about you
And the family, back at home.
I’ll be so glad to finish this;
Come home to never roam.
Now, here it is, your birthday!
We always had such fun!
But, when I’m through and come back home,
You’ll know we’ve just begun.
We’ll play some catch and football,
And grab a fishin’ pole ...
Camp out by the river,
Score a soccer goal.
And, we’ll know what ‘together’ means,
Better even than before;
Live in a safe land, free and brave.
That’s what this action’s for.
But, for right now, let’s make like ‘brave’,
As a boy like you would do.
You’ll grow up in freedom’s land,
With no tyrant ruling you.
I love my God, my country, and,
Son, I love you, too!
On this, your birthday, may I say,
"I’m doing this ... for you!"
© 2003 ~ Joan Clifton Costner
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