Here we are Son...Step up here now and meet a friend of mine,
A proud man who stood so straight and tall;
He's my Daddy and he loves you Boy,
See his Name Son...It's inscribed there on the Wall.
He left when I was just a lad,
He said, "Take care of Mom;"
"I'll be back in just a little while."
"I'm going to Vietnam"
My Dad's been gone for years now,
He had a job to do;
You can see Him now, just look up there,
At the old Red White and Blue.
That old Flag still flies for Freedom,
And for the Names here on this Wall;
Die for it if you have to Boy,
We can never let It fall.
The boy stood there at attention,
I think he understood;
A tear fell from his little face,
He said this Wall is good.
It represents the price They paid,
Each Name there on that Wall;
They paid my debt for Freedom,
And gave Their all in all.
And one day when I'm a man,
And have a job to do,
I will proudly serve Her with Them;
The old Red White and Blue.
The tears rushed in and filled my eyes,
But still I think I saw;
My Dad salute my little boy,
From there upon the Wall.
© 1996 Duane Whitstine