We walked through these hills of youth, together you and me.
We chased us some pretty girls , had some tight times in between.
We answered the calling and left these muddy roads,
now Iam the one standing here, the one who made it back home.
You were always the faster one, the one with all the luck.
You could wear a white T shirt, come out clean ,even when mud got slung.
They say you where their rod of steal, never would try to bend,
you went the way  you wanted to, right down to the end.
So Brother, here I stand,  in the middle of this dirt road.
A shot of this Jim Beam will wash the hurt down my throat.
I hope you taste   your shot and give that crazy smile....
go in peace my Brother, see you on the other side. Love you man.

On the table , over there by the woven chair,
a box of prize possesions still line up there.
Left unattended, as if in a rush...
something is now missing...something he used to touch.

Let us flip the page of time, perhapes a few days back.
Count the items that were in the box, perhapes something
is a lack.
A ball of string, so carefully rolled, a coin with faded date.
A photo of a lovely girl and a flag of the United States.
A ring  and then a whisp of hair, human one would hope
and then a little soldier of tin , the hero of the show.
This tin soldier had seen the world, in the hands of the holder.
Seen him slip and fall, civilian and a soldier.
Listens to him as he thinks. Stands by as he cried.
Looked away when words were cursed, felt warm when he saw him smile.
The night was all as usual, the holder had been gone for a few days.
He entered ,sat down at the chair, all seemed normal one would say.
First came out the flag, quite moments would follow that.
Then the photo, ring and hair, normally the holder would sit back.
This time the holder knelt by the fire and the tin soldier strained to see,
the holder cried more then usual, the tin soldier wondered what could it be.
Then came a string of curses and a rush of air,
the tin soldier was caught up in the moment, quite unprepared.
As he layed to close to the flames, he felt his time draw near.....
the final moments as he left he could see the holder clear......

So now the room is empty. The table left untouched.
The holder left and never returned, he had lost all so much.
Tin soldiers they say are a dime a dozen, funny, kind of like us.
It's how we are lined up for the play, what we see or touch... the tin man melts away...we return to dust.

I did not see my parents in the bleachers, the night of the game.
How  lack luster was the joy when I finally got of the bench,
scored with the winning play.
I did not see the Marksman who had me in his sights.
I did not get to see the medic who never left my side.......
I did not see you.
I did not get to see the family who holds hands and prays,
then sits around a dinner table with smiles and laughter on their face.
I did not see you.
I did not see the dark clouds gathering in the West.
I did not see the warning in the inbound text.
Some say you can hear a freight train way before you see the light.
I say there are some things we will never see and still be alright.
I did not see you............

The got down on their knees and asked The Man for rain.
Crops were drying up,looked like a bad year for grain.
The bills started piling up , the note came they'd loose the land.
They  held on tight as a family should, never lost faith in The Man.
Rain never  came across the parched land even the fish had a worry or two,
so the good folks came up with a last dith plan cause that's what good folks do.
They brought a few cattle down from the hills,
along with a few fat pigs.
Cleaned up and painted the barn ,then built a huge , fancy BBQ rig.
Got word out to the neighbors and everyone in between,
told them there would be the biggest three day gathering, the biggest they'd ever seen.
Well still no rain but no fret, there was work going on,
these folks never lost faith in The Man, they were not going to loose this farm!
Come Friday noon there came a rumble, almost like a distant storm.
No it wasn't lightning or rain, it was three thousand bikers mabey more!
They all lined up for this three day event, music, foolishness and good food.
Paid thirty dollars a head  and signed a paper they'd obey the rules.
Music filled the farm air that night and fun was had for days.
Then like the rule book had printed out, they cleaned up and road away.
Now the farm was saved and bills were paid, worries put away,
as the last biker road away in the dust....the sky opened up with rain!

They called him up to the main office, told him Friday was his last day,
he came back down to the shop, started puting his things away.
Took down all them old posters, been there since 84.
Hard to believe this day had come, not excited anymore.
Got the call to the main office, I wondered now what again?!
called me on the carpet, said I'd be replacing him.
Stood there in amazement, just couldn't get it to sink in.
I'm replacing my teacher, boss,......my friend.
Times we used to talk about how many years left to this day.
Sleep in with no alarm clock, fish the day away.
Finally buy that Harley or mabey take that cruise.
Somehow it's not like the dream when you finally get the news.
I walked him to his truck and found no words to say,
seems  kind of odd, we used to talk all **** day.
So I shook his hand and gave him a hug,
sent him on his way. Walked back into the shop,
it now seems so strange.
Watched him from the open doors disappear in a cloud of dust.
One mans journey ended here today, one is about to start.

They have fought for God and Country,  far away from their home.
Now these heroes are behind on morgage loans.
Slept in a six foot shelter, lives on the line,
coming home to nothing, don't rest easy on my mind.
Wish I had enough acres to set them up right here.
Know they know how to build and get them trees cleared.
Kind of like a city where all of of those who gave,
can rebuild their lives and misery be saved.
I know that there are reasons and situations extremes,
the kind of equation that ruins hopes and dreams.
Just doesn't fit me right to see these women and men,
to come back from the gates of Hell and see their world closing in.

Awareness is the seed to a solution.

And the Grass People all rejoiced,
the widowed Grasshopper King had made a choice,
finally  fell in love with the Wood Crickett Queen.
Since she too was a widowed soul,
this union held for a future strong,
a union of the Grass People and the Wooded Wings.
A feast was held to spread the news,
creatures of all walk and wings  shared magical tunes,
the whole Valley seemed more alive with this spread of joy.
So now when ever you sit out on the porch swing,
relaxing, sipping on a cold drink...
listen and you may even hear....
the Wood Crickett saying...good night my dear.