I've Got Your Back I am a small and precious child, my dads been sent to fight... The only place I'll see his face, is in my dreams at night. He will be gone too many days for my young mind to keep track. I may be sad, but I am proud. My daddy's got your back... I am a caring mother. My son has gone to war... My mind is filled with worries that I have never known before. Everyday I try to keep my thoughts from turning black. I may be scared, but I am proud. My son has got your back... I am a strong and loving wife, with a husband who had to go. There are times I'm terrified in a way most never know. I bite my lip, and force a smile as I watch my husband pack... My heart may break, but I am proud. My husbands got your back... I am a soldier... Serving Proudly, standing tall. I fight for freedom, yours and mine by answering this call. I do my job while knowing, the thanks it sometimes lacks. Say a prayer that I'll come home. It's me who's got your back. Teresa "WolfPoet" Gates Oct. 14, 2002 |
At this time with so much uncertanty in our World we need to keep our minds and prayers on the Soldiers that fight for our freedom and the families of those men and women. I know because I was the child of a soldier in the Army so I knew the fear of a child who's Father has left them! I know because I am the Sister of Brothers who went away to fight! I know because I am also the Mother & the Daughter who went away to fight! I know because I am a Mother of just such a Son. My Son Chris is in the Navy as well as my niece and her Husband! So I know the fear of being a Mother, a daughter, and a sister of a Soldier but yet stand proud as I myself was a soldier at one time. I had a critical MOS in comunications so I was one of the first on the front lines! I know the fear of staying alive to come home to my Kids and Family! Now I know the fear of having my child come home! His children know the same fear as he did when he was a child and I did as a child! I ask that all band together in Prayer for the men and women who fight for us and their families that are praying they return safely! |
With This Recent War I Thought I Would Add A Guest Book Here So You Can Send A Message To Today's Soldier Or Their Families. |
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The WolfPoet's SiteRing This site owned by Teresa "WolfPoet" Gates |
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Saving 'em in the sand They are baptizing our soldiers in the desert before the war. I guess looking death in the face can cause a man (or woman) to get right with God. I Also Pray You Are Right With God. |
Pfc. David Kurns is baptized by Task Force Chaplain Capt. Ron Cooper, left, and 1st Lt. Brian Case, right, in the desert north of Kuwait City, Wednesday, March 12. Eight members of the 3rd Infantry Division were baptized in the desert on Wednesday. I pray many more will come forth. I would hate to think any of our you Men or Women would die without knowing Christ! |
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To Go To The Site Map Click The OK Button Below! |
DON'T EVER FORGET |
IMAGIN WHAT THIS TIME IS GOING TO BE LIKE NOW THAT WE ARE GOING TO WAR AGAIN! |
So Hard To Say Goodbye |
ALWAYS SAY A PRAYER BEFORE FIGHTING |
SAD BUT WE ARE READY! |
MANY PROTESTERS! |
This War Is Going To Leave Many Of Us Crying! |
JUST |
That This WON'T Last Long! |
Bring Them Back |
COMMON SOLDIER He was getting old and paunchy And his hair was falling fast, And he sat around the Legion, Telling stories of the past. Of a war that he once fought in And the deeds that he had done, In his exploits with his buddies; They were heroes, every one. And 'tho sometimes to his neighbors His tales became a joke, All his buddies listened quietly For they knew where of he spoke. But we'll hear his tales no longer, For ol' Bob has passed away, And the world's a little poorer For a Soldier died today. He won't be mourned by many, Just his children and his wife. For he lived an ordinary, Very quiet sort of life. He held a job and raised a family, Going quietly on his way; And the world won't note his passing, 'Tho a Soldier died today. When politicians leave this earth, Their bodies lie in state, While thousands note their passing, And proclaim that they were great. Papers tell of their life stories From the time that they were young But the passing of a Soldier Goes unnoticed, and unsung. Is the greatest contribution To the welfare of our land, Some jerk who breaks his promise And cons his fellow man? Or the ordinary fellow Who in times of war and strife, Goes off to serve his country And offers up his life? The politician's stipend And the style in which he lives, Are often disproportionate, To the service that he gives. While the ordinary Soldier, Who offered up his all, Is paid off with a medal And perhaps a pension, small. It's so easy to forget them, For it is so many times That our Bobs and Jims and Johnnys, Went to battle, but we know, It is not the politicians With their compromise and ploys, Who won for us the freedom That our country now enjoys. Should you find yourself in danger, With your enemies at hand, Would you really want some cop-out, With his ever waffling stand? Or would you want a Soldier-- His home, his country, his kin, Just a common Soldier, Who would fight until the end. He was just a common Soldier, And his ranks are growing thin, But his presence should remind us We may need his like again. For when countries are in conflict, We find the Soldier's part Is to clean up all the troubles That the politicians start. If we cannot do him honor While he's here to hear the praise, Then at least let's give him homage At the ending of his days. Perhaps just a simply headline In the paper that might say: "OUR COUNTRY IS IN MOURNING, A SOLDIER DIED TODAY." © by Teresa Piercey (WolfPoet) 4-24-1987 |
The Line Begins to Blur We are the ones on the line, We are the few left to hold it. Day in and day out, We stand our bloody ground. Mark your target carefully, Body shot is always best. So you squeeze the trigger, Feel the rifle kick. I see the other guy fall, See his blood stain the sand. You try not to see it, Try not to think about it. We hold the line every day, Because we are told to. We kill Men every day, Because that's what we are told to do. They are the enemy, We are the good guys. We stand for freedom, They stand for hate. Every day we kill more and more, I see children and Women on the streets. Have I made them orphans and widows? Who's side are we on anyway? How can I defend my nation, Holding a line miles from home. How can we defend freedom, After we have taken it from others? So we hold this bloody line, Exchange fire and hate. But as each day passes by, That line begins to blur. © by Teresa Piercey (WolfPoet) 6-13-1989 |
This Poem Is Dedicated To ANYONE Who Has Lost A Family Member in Any War! TAKE MY HAND I cannot ease your aching heart, Nor take your pain away, But let me stay and take your hand And walk with you today. I´ll listen when you need to talk, I´ll wipe away your tears, I´ll share your worries when they come, I´ll help you face your fears. I´m here and I will stand by you, each hill you have to climb. So take my hand, let´s face the world, Live one day at a time. You´re not alone, for I´m still here... I´ll got that extra mile. And when your grief is easier, I´ll help you learn to smile. © by Teresa Piercey (WolfPoet) 3-24-1976 |
