A Poem from my Son

Last night my almost-nine-year-old, Eli, sent me this poem. He wrote it as a reflection of what he has been experiencing the last few months. I thought it was special that he did this on his own without prompting.

Unsung Heroes

By Eli Citlau

The policeman who goes down in a gunfight,

The firefighter who dies to save a child, 

The doctor who gets sick treating others

or 

The soldier who is killed protecting the country’s liberty. 

Unsung Heroes

These are the people who pay the price protecting our country but the history books don’t write about them. They protect our life, rights and liberties but are called monsters for what a few do.  Is that how we should treat these men and women?

Unsung Heroes

These heroes protect us when we are fragile,

From Brits,

Then Nazis,

Communists,

Terrorists, criminals and diseases.

We are truly the most ungrateful people if we call our heroes monsters. 

Unsung Heroes

We won’t know how lucky we are until the heroes are gone.

Unsung Heroes

They deserve a hero’s song.

They are

Nameless,

Come from every race,

Men and women,

And are

Rich and poor. 

They are the unsung heroes.

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