Desert Dreamer's almost poetry for Sunday, February 24, 2008

Uncle Sam said to me, go far away and make them free, fight for us, we will pay you well perhaps a book you can later sell. Take this gun some bombs and such, we are so sorry that you returned home with a crutch. Go ahead and fight this war while we sit cowardly behind the door. Go young man protect our borders while we kick back and give the orders. Leave behind you families, your newborn babies and wives who need you, your mother arms and friends that love you. Go my boy and do us proud, go... Sign in to see full entry.

It was a bitter cold but sunny January morning in the small Midwestern town of Terre Haute Indiana, a town not far from where my mom grew up, the sun, like me, was just rising. As I open my eyes to the day and unwillingly slowly inched the covers away from my toasty warm body to the chill of the room, I exerted a big stretch, lowered my toes to the cold floor into my comfy slippers and proceeded to start my day. I passed by the slightly drawn bedroom curtain and saw something sparkle on the... Sign in to see full entry.