The Composer will be here January 1,2005!

Momma was a soldier in the army of life, who marched with platoon fifty-two,
She showed off a fatigue-trimmed hat that she never let stroke the ground, its manifestation stayed unmarked and brand new,
Her soul, complete of concrete, and each battle she brawled in she was awarded the Purple Heart,
At bedtime she would enlighten with old war stories of thorny battles, her scars appeared just as famous art.
She often said, “Don’t fret son, one day it will be your turn to march,”
“How will I know?” I asked
“Passion will seal your veins,” she said
“Your back will soon have arch.”