HOME COMING

I knew my dad was very handsome
For there was his picture on the wall,
Mom sat by his side, pretty as could be.
He was holding me when I was small.

I cannot remember my handsome dad,
For he went off in a great war to fight,
But one day he’ll walk through our door
Pick me up, swing me round, hold me tight.

He came through the door on a stretcher
Much to sick and weak to try to walk,
He did not look like his picture on the wall
He just sat by the fire and didn’t even talk.

I don’t think he even knew our names
Or that he had made it back home.
He would scream out in the night,
He never wanted to be left alone.

What had happened to the real dad
Who set out a great war to fight?
For he never really came home to us,
But we’ll love the stranger with all our might.

M Ann Margetson June 30 1998
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