An American Father

I wrote this poem three years ago, expressing the thoughts of a father, such as myself, at the notion of one of my sons perhaps growing up to be the avatar for some arrogant or ignorant politician, who would seek to send him into harm's way for his own purposes. I got a lot of email on it, I expect more this time, on this reprint.

On a day, this Fourth of July, when Americans are supposed to be celebrating their freedom from tyranny, we forget that this battle is ongoing, and not just overseas, not just against foreign powers or terrorist organizations, but also against those who would, from the inside, wrap themselves in the flag, pound their pulpits and pervert the words and sacrifices of martyrs of past generations, to their own ends.

An American Father

I did not raise my child to be
the fodder for your fight,
to be the blood to wet the sands
or prove that might makes right.

I did not raise my child to be
a marker on the board,
my spawn the pawn of coward's brawn,
the chaff beneath the sword.

I did not raise my child to be
less than those you love,
I did not raise my child to be
the slaughtered, bartered dove.

Tell me why my child must die
to prove that you are brave,
to prove that you are noble
to prove tis peace we crave.

I did not raise my child to be
a number or a cross,
a memory in a photograph
of loving father's loss.


William F. DeVault. all rights reserved.

In this time, we are the peace gods of a misplaced religion. To Cindy Sheehan, and everyone in these times called to serve and die, or who have lost loved ones, I, as an American, thank you for your sacrifice, and hope that one day, rich men will learn that poor men's lives are worth as much their children, that truth is more powerful than lies and secrecy, that might doesn't make right, it merely corrupts people into thinking they are right.

I am a patriot because I believe in the principles of America, not necessarily its leaders.