To My Son

To fight a battle in foreign lands,

to gamble your life with savage hands,

To leave your home and loved ones behind

takes strength of body – strength of mind.

They’ll bid you go when you’re but ten and eight,

defy your trust – replace it with hate.

They’ll take your hands that have created and know fun

and make them carry an issued gun –

A gun whose muzzle you must aim

at some strange face with some strange name.

Yes Son, I fear it’s true –

there are some things you must do;

To keep this nation proud and strong

you may have to do what you feel is wrong.

But – think a moment and you will see

that these unwanted acts are keeping us free.

For those strange faces in those strange lands

are merely puppets in some greedy hands.

Those greedy few are why we fight –

why peaceful men must show their might.

But show we will until the day

that each creed of man can go his own way,

Live in peace, and always be free.

This hope of peace is to you, my son, from me.

Alan H. Kelly