Eighteen and Leaving

Folded shirt

On a twin bed frame

Mama’s hands

Shaking on my name tag

Dad stares hard

At the old screen door

He went at nineteen

I’m leaving at eighteen

For another war

I’m too young to drink

Old enough to die

Learned to drive last summer

Now I’m learning how to fight

Got a bus seat, got a Bible

Got a number, not a choice

Eighteen and leaving

With a boy’s face

And a soldier’s voice (oh Lord)

Last shift

At the feed store lot

Cassie cried

Said “write when you can talk”

We carved our names

In the loading dock rail

Promised each other

If I make it back

We’ll have a church bell

I’m too young to drink

Old enough to die

Learned to drive last summer

Now I’m learning how to fight

Got a bus seat, got a Bible

Got a number, not a choice

Eighteen and leaving

With a boy’s face

And a soldier’s voice

Will the sand look

Anything like our red clay

Will I still see

Friday night lights from far away

If I don’t come home

Plant my boots by that front door

Tell them I was just a kid

Who went and did

What he was asked of for

I’m too young to drink

Old enough to die

Mama’s tears on my collar

Daddy’s pride in his eyes

Got a bus seat, got a Bible

Got a prayer in my throat

Eighteen and leaving

For a war I barely know

Folded flag

In a picture frame

Mama whispers

Every night my name

Eighteen and leaving

Echoes through this town

One boy gone

While the world keeps turning round