I was singing on a Sunday morning
When you walked through the door.
A smile, a wave, and hug you gave me
As we met out on the floor.

You tried to sneak in quietly;
You didn’t wish to make a scene.
But the preacher called you out anyway.
The congregation no longer saw a reckless teen.

They saw a future veteran
Of the US of A.
Or “the land of the free and the home of the brave”
As the older folks say.

We talked for hours at a time.
As much as we possibly could.
Iraq was calling your name
And you would soon be gone, I knew you would.

I watched your plane leave
The very next day.
“Lord, keep him safe,
Bring him back to me, I pray.”

You have less than a month left
And for that I am grateful.
Please, for my sake,
I hope you’re being careful.

I love you very much.
I hate to think of you alone.
You must perform what you promised.
You promised to hurry home.