Marching steady to the front

We were once among the runts of the litter.

Never falter, never turn

Though the heat's starting to burn off all the glitter.

What is left’s an iron will

A tender heart that’s beating still and never bitter.

So keep our stride, step by step.

Beyond the paths of vain regrets, no place for quitters.

Too exposed to hide

Way too wrecked to run.

Too proud to side with the enemy.

I think I’ll retreat instead

I think I’ll climb into bed

I think I’ll hold my son’s hand

Go walk barefoot through the sand.

Make a meal for you.

Watch a ballgame or two.

© 2018 Jason R. Ferguson, All Rights Reserved