Sand heaps
By Tom Brown
Sat, 03 Oct 2009
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2 comments
They were our neighbours we moved in the same day we were both five years old. There were french drains and gravel roads and a blackout with each thunderstorm. On that day we made friends we played on the sand heaps by the road and he stole my little blue matchbox car with the little doors broken off. He denies this up until today.
On the first day of school I was crying like mad going into the classroom and he was joyfully waving for me to sit by him. I understood the work but he didn’t realize that this was a twelve year sentence. When you are six twelve years sounds like a lot of time.
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From childhood this old
From childhood this old sentimental song,
I remember it so well,
Two little boys
Had two little toys
Each had a wooden horse
Gaily they played
On a summer day
Warriors both of course
One little chap
Had a mishap
Broke of his horse's head
Wept for his toy
But cried with joy
When he heard his brother say:
Do you think I could leave you crying
When there's room on my horse for two
Climb up here Jack and stop your crying
We'll mend up your horse with glue
When we grow up we'll both be soldiers
And our toys will not be toys
And maybe you will remember
When we were two little boys
Long years had passed
War came at last
Bravely they marched away
Cannons roared loud
Midst that wild crowd
Where wounded and dying Joe lay
Then came a cry
A rider dashed by
Out from the ranks of blue
Galloped away
To where Joe lay
And he heard his brother say:
Do you think I could leave you dying
When there's room on my horse for two?
Climb up dear Joe we'll soon be flying
To the ranks of the boys in blue
Can't you see Jack I'm all a-tremble?
It may be the flash and the noise
Or it may be because I remember
When we were two little boys
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