JOSEPH W. HART

The following poem was written to express the feelings of a soldier far from home. Spc. Joseph Hart, from Jefferson Twp., New Jersey had been in Baghdad nine months when this was written and was reflecting on his life and a soldier's companion: homesickness.

THOUGHTS OF HOME

I was sitting on my front porch
chilling with my lady
Listening to the DJ
all night long

Got a letter in the mail, said
"Go to war or go to jail"

While sitting on my front porch
chilling with my lady
Listening to the DJ
all night long

They sent me off to Baghdad
I knew it would be hard
They sent me off to Baghdad
I knew it would be bad

I'm not sitting on my front porch
chilling with my lady
I'm not listening to the DJ
all night long

I couldn't stop remembering
the way that things had been
I couldn't stop remembering
the way things could have been

Sitting on my front porch
chilling with my lady
Listening to the DJ
all night long

I was always told that war is hell
I have so many stories that would hurt to tell
I can't wait to be back home
I really hope these thoughts are gone

So I can sit on my front porch
chilling with my lady
Listening to the DJ
all night long

I want to get back to the way things were
I hope, once again, to be holding her

and be sitting on my front porch
Listening to the DJ
all night long

The other day some friends went home
Because of an ambush, now they're gone
That makes me think all over again
The way things were and could have been

Just sitting on my front porch
chilling with my lady
Listening to the DJ
all night long

Yesterday I got a letter in the mail
was from my lady, says she's gonna bale
She said it's too hard and too tough
it hurts too much, she's had enough

No more sitting on my front porch
chilling with my lady
No more listening to the DJ
all night long

Today I'm going home
but all I'd had is gone
Everyone's happy they're going home
I'm just not ready to be alone

As I sit here with rockets overhead
it makes me wish I was home in bed, or---

Sitting on my front porch
chilling with my lady
Listening to the DJ,
but I have no lady,
to listen to the DJ
all night long

When I sit there, safe back home
I'll think of the stories I will tell
to my kids, one day, I know them well

And for all of those that now are gone
we won't forget you and what you've done
So everyone we love at home
can be safe and read this poem

While sitting on their front porch
chilling with their lady
While listening to the DJ
all night long

©Copyright 2004 by Joseph W. Hart