Big Black Letters

I caught Operation Homecoming on Netflix the other day. It shoved an entire humble pie down my throat in one sitting. I recommend watching it. This is a poem that I wrote to honor our troops, and to honor my brother.
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Big Black Letters

When my brother was 18 years old, I was two years younger.

When he shipped off to boot camp with 3 of his class mates, I was worried about my high-school football team.

When he told me that he wanted to go to war, I was young, and I didn’t believe him.

They all came home on leave, stood in their khaki green uniforms on the sidelines at my football game, and my brother stood so straight. I remember feeling like he would protect me from anything. He and our friends had been trained to kill. I wanted to be just like them. I ran, fast. I tackled and I tried so hard, but I was playing high-school football and they were living real life.

When my brother turned 30 years old, I was two years younger.

When he asked me what I wanted for Christmas, I told him that I wanted a grey-heathered t-shirt that said “USMC” in big black letters.

When he told me that he wanted to go to war, I believed him, and I thought I knew why.

They don’t all come home on leave, our friends. They don’t all get to watch little brothers play high-school football. I remember thinking that he would be a good soldier, in combat. He has been trained to kill. He is a level-headed leader of men. I am not much like him. Deep down we are two different people. I would run away so fast. He would tackle, and he would try so hard, and he would give his life so that I could play high-school football.

—–leest1—-

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About Lee Stone -leest1-

The world is changing: Stand for Something. Soporte Para Algo. Independent Poet/Artist. Portland, OR · http://facebook.com/sonstone
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