Daddy left his boots for me
and here I have to stay
‘cause Daddy is a soldier,
I’m in charge while he’s away.
In Daddy’s boots I can pretend
that now I am the man
who does the things that Daddy does
as only Daddy can.
I help with little brother,
I help with folding clothes,
I help to set the table,
and I hope Daddy knows
that every day I wear his boots
so I’ll feel close to him
and I try to keep Mom happy
till he comes home again.
I know that he’s protecting us.
That’s what soldiers do,
but his boots are way too big for me
and my job, being him, is too.
Mom, when is Daddy coming home?
I miss him all the time.
She said Daddy would be proud of me
and his boots... fit me just fine.
(For my grandson, Will Jr., with love. His daddy is in Iraq)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem