Well since I can't seem to figure out how to make this thing work anymore. r_r; I've decided to post what I was going to put up as a deviation in my journal.

Be warned that I'm not the best at these kinds of things, so it might not exactly flow the way a poem should, but it's something that I was inspired to write after listening to the radio and hearing something about a contest for "What it means to be a military child." Since I can't draw, I have no intentions of doing the contest, and so I decided to write something about "What it means to be a military family member," instead.


"What it means to be a military family member."

You're leaving now. I know you have to go, but it's so hard to see you leave.
Knowing you'll be so far away for so long. I hug you and try to hold back tears.
I don't want you to go, but there's nothing that I can do about it.
It's your job. It's what you have to do, and even though it hurts, I'll just think
About what it will be like when you're finally home again.

I'll hug you tightly and tell you that I love you, never really wanting to let go.
And when you pull away I'll say "see you later", because it's never good bye.
When I watch you board the airplane I will wave, still holding back tears, but
When I see the look on your face, those tears will fall. I will miss you while you're gone.

It's getting closer now. Almost time for you to come home, only it's not for good.
A few weeks to spend with you and then it's "see you later" once again.
So much has happened since you've been gone. I can't wait to see you again.
I have so much to tell you. I want to do so much with you, but you only have
So much time. I wish it was for good, but I'll cherish every moment you're home.

It's time. I'm waiting at the airport. I've been here for hours. Waiting anxiously.
Your plane is due to land in a few minutes and I'm tapping my foot, looking around
And hoping that I don't miss you when you come inside. I have a big sign,
So maybe you won't miss me even if I don't see you at first.

There you are! I see you and wave, and run up to hug you. "I missed you." I say.
It feels so good to have you back, even if it's only for a little while. It's so nice to
Feel your hug and know that you're alive and well instead of worrying every day
That something might happen to you.

Around us there's other people crying as their family member boards a plane to go
Where you just came from. I feel for them, because I remember what it was like when
You left a few months ago, and I'll be in their shoes again in just a few short weeks.
I still don't want you to go, and there's still nothing I can do about it.

Across the room a woman weeps, falling down onto a bench as she's told the news.
Her husband didn't make it back from his last mission. Her children no longer have
A father. It tears me up inside to think that I could some day be in that family's shoes.
It makes me all the more thankful that you're alive and well, but I still feel for her.

It's time for you to leave again. Back to the airport. Back to the "see you later" hugs.
You'll be home for good in a couple of months. At least a year, usually. But I don't
Want you to go. I know it's your duty, and one that you must fulfill, but it doesn't make
It any easier to say good bye.

It's time! The time has dragged, and yet gone by quite quickly. I can't wait to see you again.
To give you a hug and know that you're alive and well. The minutes drag by as I wait for your
Plane to land, and you to come in again. This time you'll be here for longer. This time we can
Catch up and get used to having one another around without having that taken away so quickly.

The days pass on, and you're over the initial excitement of being home again. You've
Changed so much. Seen things that you won't speak of, because it was just that bad.
Sometimes it's scary to be around you, because I don't know what might trigger bad
Memories.

Despite the things you went through, and the horrible things you saw. You're still a wonderful
Person, and one of the few that remembers what they're fighting for. You love your country,
And even if some of them hate you, you still believe it's worth protecting them, and their
Right to hate you and protest the war.

This is why, whenever anyone asks me "Who is your hero?" I say to them, "My hero is
My father/mother/son/daughter/husband/wife. They belong to the United States military,
And that is the most heroic thing a person can do."