Adam’s birthday passed by quietly,
though tears were shed once more.
The Song of Salvage sings to me
as I look at what’s in store.
I wonder as I watch with knowing,
having seen this long ago,
in prophecy, it came to me
Just like when he, my son would go.
In Paris of all places,
In the year once told to me,
that I did not understand meant him
in spite of warnings, meant to be.
I raged in anger at unfairness,
at the injustice of the world.
What reason does one use
to justify when your son’s killed?
I can not offer anything
to fill the hole one feels
when your child is taken instantly
your emotions all unreel.
I wish that I could come up with more,
then just love and empathy,
for the soldiers and the families
who had fought to keep us free?
What little I can offer,
for all that I believe,
my desire to help with what it takes,
to house the ones they leave.
Please let me know what we can do
as if my children, I’ll help too.
Create a home for the loved ones left,
full knowing it’s not all that’s due,
it could be the parts with
some help from you.
I’ll give the windows,
the doors, siding, roofing,
even floors,
the parts to build a life,
safe haven,
from what is left…
this can be your store.
I can not offer much but share
Please let me know
how to help them fare or
to let them know we truly care.
I can not answer for the leaders
or change the way they choose,
but After this damn war is over,
the others passed, no wins, all lose!
I Pray for peace… as well as a way
to Care for those still left behind,
help the families of the soldiers
who did not come back…
dead or alive?
How do we salvage dreams once dead?
Where do you house the kids still left?
How does the family find a home
when their parent left them all alone?
That is our job America… for the families
I commit to help if I can
and I hope and pray many out there will too…
if I give you the parts, can you assemble a dream?
A home for a family, though tiny,
from me to help them move forward
to grow up and live Free.
Darby