Brother John
The Black Beret
This is no soldiers hat
None have died by your hand
Your soul has been honed
By walking through this land
Surely compassion and wisdom
Has brought you to this place
That's how the age of fifty
Shows upon your face
You have earned the honor
To wear the black beret
A tradition of our fathers
A custom we can't betray
When you read this poem
This paper must be set ablaze
Keep always in your heart
The tradition of the black beret
Love Brother Bob
Copyright 1995 Robert Luttrell
cactusb@seanet.com
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