I’m passing my brothers room,
When I stop,
And look inside,
And there,
Hanging on one of the knobs on his dresser,
Is his Cub Scout uniform.
I look at his room.
It is dirty,
With toys everywhere,
Clothes and towels thrown about,
Books discarded onto the floor,
And papers chucked on the bed.
But there his uniform hangs,
Clean,
And neatly hung,
Waiting for the Wednesdays when he will slowly put it on,
Making sure not to crease it,
So it shall look very nice.
He does this for one reason,
He is proud of it.
The patches and badges he has earned to cover it,
And this is what he honors,
For he has to work hard,
To earn these symbols,
He has to spend hours doing homework,
And the things he has to do to earn patches,
Take him time to learn to do,
For he wants to be a good scout,
And a good scout he is,
But for now,
His Cub Scout Uniform,
Hangs on the dresser,
Dreaming of Wednesday.