A Marine Mom's Poetry

A Marine Mom’s Poetry

The talk in the service is all kind of new
You march past the flag; they call it “Review”
You stand in a “chow line”
While we site and dine
You polish your boots, call it “spit shine”
When you have to go potty
You use the “head”
You jump into your “sack”
We call it a bed
I’d wake you for school
You wake now for “muster”
At that early hour
It sure is a buster
They gave you a number
In place of a name
But you’ll always be “Gary”
To me just the same
You learn all the jargon
And don’t ever balk
But remember it’s Mom
Who taught you to talk

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