Keeping Thier Memories Alive
My daddy was a soldier, he went to fight the war
I don't remember what he looked like, when he went away so far
But way up in the attic at the top of the stairs
I found a chest that was filled with his souvenirs
A picture of a young man, his face filled with a smile
His eyes remind me of my own, that's what mama tells me anyhow
There were newspapers yellowed with age, and letters tied with a bow
And a brown Army jacket with stripes in a row
The jacket didn't fit me, the sleeves fell to the floor
But I put it round my shoulders as I looked at his picture once more
I knew he was a hero, I'd heard it said before
My daddy didn't come home, at the end of the war
He died fighting for freedom, he died because he loved
The land that he was born in, the land where I'll grow up
He was a fallen hero, a man of which I'm proud
And so I salute him as the tears slide slowly down
Poetry by Sand
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ŠLuvdalot Graphics & Design, 2003-2005
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