The biggest moment in our lives was that when first he cried, <br />From that day unto this, for him, we've struggled side by side. <br />We can recount his daily deeds, and backwards we can look, <br />And proudly live again the time when first a step he took. <br /> <br />I see him trudging off to school, his mother at his side, <br />And when she left him there alone she hurried home and cried. <br />And then the sturdy chap of eight that was, I proudly see, <br />Who packed a little grip and took a fishing trip with me. <br /> <br />Among the lists of boys to go his name has now appeared; <br />To us has come the sacrifice that mothers all have feared; <br />And though we dread the parting hour when he shall march away, <br />We love him and the Flag too much to ask of him to stay. <br /> <br />His baby ways shall march with him, and every joy we've had, <br />Somewhere in France some day shall be a little brown-eyed lad; <br />A toddler and a child at school, the chum that once I knew <br />Shall wear our country's uniform, for they've been drafted, too.<br /><br />Edgar Albert Guest<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/drafted-3/
