Randy McClave (Ashland, Kentucky)
We Were Boys
Let's put away our childish toys
We men we all come from small boys
We run we climb, we cover ourselves with grime
Our screaming and our filth is our joys.
We curse and we spit as we are boys
Fighting and shouting we make our noise
We throw sticks and rocks, we won’t wear socks.
Our lifestyle as imps we proudly poise.
We run through the rain we play in the mud
Our merit badges is our scars and blood
We sport black eyes, they are our grand prize
We’ll run towards tornado’s and we’ll swim in a flood.
Girls we see them as our enemy
They are sweet and gentle and they will not tame me
They won’t run and play, their parents they obey
We want only friends and they want a family.
Now one day a suit and tie it must be worn
The playgrounds of our yesterdays we will sadly mourn
But for those days we must not grieve, we must truly believe
That one day to us men, a son will be born.
Randy L. McClave
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