~ An Your
All alone he
stood tall and proud,
He was just a boy,
Young, yet mature beyond his years,
A life void of joy.
He plowed the fields each day,
Mules showed a devoted care,
Breaking cold bread into bits,
When he ate, with them he shared.
A jug of water from which he drank,
Carefully into his hat he poured,
Held before the mules with love,
Their thirst was not ignored.
Slowly running his hand,
Across the back of each mule,
Rubbing them down during rest,
This always being his rule.
Time again to plow the rich field,
The sun's setting would be too soon,
To finish what had to be done,
He'd see the rising of the moon.
Hurriedly he walks toward home,
Beds the mules in the barn for the night,
Whistles to a lazy hound dog,
Goes to check if his mom is alright.
The role of a man he has taken,
There was no one but him to employ,
Mom sick and daddy gone to heaven,
He seems to forget he's just a boy.
Hard working days before him,
Wishing his dad could have stayed,
Unsure of his mom's future,
He knelt by the well and prayed.
He picked up a guitar with a missing string,
Strumming, he sang tunes of heavenly joy,
The burdens of the world on his young shoulders,
Portrayed a man, but he was just a boy.
December 7, 2006
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Music: "That's All That Matters"
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