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Daddy, I'm Coming Home
I stand here,
the slick green grass beneath my feet.
Morning dew streaks across my sleek, black shoes,
hands by the side,
of my Army blues.
My fists balled up,
but not too tight,
for I stand in front of the crowd,
bearing my new right.
I see my family through the rows,
all dressed up,
siblings in laps,
tears on cheeks,
daddy, I'm coming home.
Ten weeks I've been gone,
stripped and made anew,
shaped and molded,
into something brand new.
For I am a U.S. Soldier,
proud to be,
with the country's weight on my shoulders,
serving in the United States Army.
HOOAH!

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