My Army Of One

Poem By Donna Nimmo

My son is being deployed, a heavy burden on my heart
It won't be long, counting the days and minutes when he will depart
Oh please god send a guardian angel, to keep him from harm
He's a gentle soul and will have to always carry a sidearm

He's still my little boy, I diapered and bounced on my knee
I raised him from birth, such a proud father for all the world to see
I know he's become a man, and wants us all to be free
So he will risk his own life, fighting across the sea

He wants to make his life keeping America from harm
If only you could know him, he's so good and full of charm
Please keep him in your prayers, when you bow your head at night
He won't have a choice, he will be proud to fight

He will feel it's his honor and duty, to protect us all at home
He will hunt out terrorists, where ever they may roam
So please keep him in your thoughts, he will always be in mine
He will go to that spot needed, where ever they assign!

Written for my son and his daddy.
By Dogs4donna

© 2007 Dogs4donna (All rights reserved)

Comments about My Army Of One

Beautiful poem. a lot of emotions here. It's more a prayer than a poem, in my eyes.

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Other poems of NIMMO

Growing Up

I didn't know why I was really born
I had a sad childhood and was always torn
Didn't know my daddy, didn't really know my mother
It was just us three, with my sister and my brother

The Abused Wife

She drive's into her neighborhood
Her heart starts racing
She knows he's been pacing
She can't explain what took so long

The Controlling Man

Your heart, your body can never heal
From back when you were given, a raw deal
He kept you in a cage with no bars
And even now you can feel the scars

Social Security Reform

They have found an answer for social security
Put them in a nursing home, no liability
Medicaid and medicare will probably have to pay
Then they'll only live a year or two and become their prey

Trying To Find A Job

Trying to find a job at fifty-three
Too old to work, too young for social security
They all want someone in their early twenties
That will go to work for mere pennies

Donna's Story

I spend alot of time writing poems, telling my story
Most are kind of sad, doesn't offer much glory
My best friend is my paper and my pen
It brings me back to places I have been