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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=528153" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>He Was My Sun</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">He was my sun, my one and only son, <br>and dressed up as a cowboy for the day.<br>And so I handed him a little gun<br>of fastened random sticks, for him to shoot and play.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And dressed up as a cowboy for the day<br>he found some foes (with bows and arrows made<br>of fastened random sticks for them) to shoot, and play<br>the part of redskins in a mock charade.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He found some foes (with bows and arrows made) <br>in his story books before he left for school.<br>The parts of redskins, in a mock charade, <br>were painted with a crimson war paint, oh so cruel.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">In history books, before he left from school -<br>the tales they told, of victories that we'd won, <br>were painted with a crimson war paint, oh so cruel -<br>the flow of paint was hard to staunch when once begun.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">From tales they told, of victories that we'd won, <br>he learned to fight for god and country glory, though<br>the flow of pain, 'twas hard to staunch when once begun<br>and cruel to both sides (as he'd later come to know) .</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He learned to fight for god and country glory, though<br>the wounds of war were still unseen (though nigh) <br>and cruel to both sides (as we'd later come to know): <br>and soon he stuffed his bag with several things of youth and said goodbye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The wounds of war were still unseen. Though nigh, <br>the hours boomed, the clock struck 12, before his time to leave, <br>and soon he stuffed his bag with several things of youth and said goodbye<br>to those who'd stay and even those who didn't grieve.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The hours boomed, the clock struck 12, before his time to leave -<br>they brought back bags they'd stuffed with severed things of those who'd died<br>to those who'd stayed. And even those who didn't grieve<br>with tears were stiff, and hid in wooden boxes meant to hide.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They brought back bags they'd stuffed with severed things of those who'd died.<br>They brought his boots back, camouflaged with mud.<br>With tears, the stiff were hid in wooden boxes meant to hide<br>our children from the spilling of their blood.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">They brought his boots back, camouflaged with mud.<br>They said they'd needed him to help defend<br>our children from the spilling of their blood.<br>But can they ever see or really comprehend? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">They said they'd needed him to help defend, <br>and so they handed him a little gun.<br>But can they ever see or really comprehend? <br>He was my sun, my one and only son...</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Terry+O%27Leary">Terry O'Leary</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=528153" data-title="He Was My Sun de Terry O'Leary" data-description="He was my sun, my one and only son, 
and dressed up as a cowboy for the day.
And so I handed him a little gun
of fastened random sticks, for him to shoot and play.

And dressed up as a cowboy for the day
he found some foes (with bows and arrows ma..."></div>
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