Post by Charice on Jan 16, 2006 1:32:42 GMT -5
Oh please come home from over yander
Don`t leave my poor young heart to wander
Every night our son, he cries
Inside my heart it just plain dies
Our daughter walked for the very first time
Because you weren't there it seemed like a crime
I'm writing this letter from the hospital bed
You haven`t responded, they all think you`re dead
Our thir child is here three hours ago
I named her from the last verse we read, before you had to go
She wrote letters every noon on the spot
For the next five years and never forgot
Their children started high school second grade and kindergarten
One Sunday an old man came, and tore down the yellow ribbon
That had been on the old oak tree
And when he smiled his lop-sided grin
She knew instantly: it was him
The young man from strolls on the beach and romantic sunsets was back, her hero
He then handed her a bag and told his wife to open it,
It was extremely heavy, heavy with years of sorrows happiness and tears all the letters…letters from wars.
-Charice Barczak-
Don`t leave my poor young heart to wander
Every night our son, he cries
Inside my heart it just plain dies
Our daughter walked for the very first time
Because you weren't there it seemed like a crime
I'm writing this letter from the hospital bed
You haven`t responded, they all think you`re dead
Our thir child is here three hours ago
I named her from the last verse we read, before you had to go
She wrote letters every noon on the spot
For the next five years and never forgot
Their children started high school second grade and kindergarten
One Sunday an old man came, and tore down the yellow ribbon
That had been on the old oak tree
And when he smiled his lop-sided grin
She knew instantly: it was him
The young man from strolls on the beach and romantic sunsets was back, her hero
He then handed her a bag and told his wife to open it,
It was extremely heavy, heavy with years of sorrows happiness and tears all the letters…letters from wars.
-Charice Barczak-