Sta.sh
He sat on a fountain with
his guitar,
One where wishes are made,
And hopes are left,
He was not much of age,
Just a teenager,
But a small child at heart
on days like these.
His dad was deployed for
Afghanistan again,
And he wouldn't be coming back
this time,
For the fight for his country,
Ended last night,
At the fountain the one thing
he wished for was a chance to
say goodbye,
He flipped the coin in,
And started to sing his farewell;
He got his guitar out and played,
The guitar was once his father's,
And was the last memory of his father,
When he gave it to him,
He sang his heart out,
He sang about how they used to joke
and how they used to play;
How he was not just the American Hero,
But his hero too,
He sang of the fights they had,
And he sang about all the laughs,
He sang about how he wanted to be at
least half the man his dad was;
He sang a goodbye,
At the fountain,
Where wishes are made,
And hopes are left to stay.
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