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Rated: E · Poetry · Other · #1800449
My best friend left for basic training, and I wrote this poem to him.
I watch you power through the terminal, destination locked, heart set, determination apparent.
Off to be a soldier, to basic is where you're sent.
I watch, with tears in my eyes,
writhing inside with unspoken cries.
My best friend, off to grow up quick.
The thought of you gone has me feeling sick.
I thought if I put it off, and didn't believe,
this reality wouldn't be. How naive.
It's come too soon, having to say goodbye.
I don't want you to see me cry.
You deserve a better friend than me,
one who doesn't think selfishly.
You're off to a better thing.
A heavenly chorus will sing
of the great man Dusty.
A man who is the trustee
of so many's faith.
I'll stand here, and try to stay strong.
I hope he's not gone for too long.
I haven't the strength to stand on my own.
I hope this weakness hasn't shown.
I'll stand here, looking proud,
and tell him what I feel aloud.
"Good luck, my friend. Keep strong.
While you're gone, I'll be singing your praising song."
I'll give you a soldier's goodbye,
and I shall await a soldier's return.
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