Flowers On His Grave
Nathan Goeser
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Every year my mom and I
Visit where our honored dead stay
Because my father lives there
It’s where he chose to lay
We’re not sad, we say aloud
“We love you, we’re so proud.”
I am so glad for every year we came
Because I got to hear my dad say my name.
First, he said, “Brady, I’m sorry I’m not
Going to be there to teach you a lot.
But every year if you come listen here
I’ll tell you what you should learn
Until one day you begin to yearn
To share with your son or daughter
What it means to live like their father.”
The next year and every year after he said,
“Make sure you say your prayers before bed.”
“Before you can be the hero,
You’ve got to be able to count up from zero.”
“Son, do your chores.
Always be nice and open doors.”
“Listen up my little tyke
And I’ll tell you how to ride a bike.”
“Tell the truth, never lie.
You’d only make your mom cry.”
“Find you a best friend.
Someone you can trust til the end.”
“Be slow to act. Use your mind.
Be strong and never not kind.”
“Let me tell you what’s what.
As the saying goes, listen to your gut.”
“Be wary of what is done at night,
So always do your business in the light.”
“Sometimes you will feel fear.
Hold it... But don’t let it near.”
“Wow! You got a car.
What! You’re now a football star!”
“If you think you’re ready, Brady,
I’ll tell you how to talk to a lady.”
I don’t know what he’ll say this year
But as we reach his plot, I lean near
And say, “I’m joining the army dad.
Please don’t worry about me. Be glad.”
As I place the flowers on his grave,
He simply says, “Be brave my son.
Be brave.”
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