Veteran
As I pass the many flags out.
I wonder what soldier gave their life for it.
The tears and joy for every soldier that comes home.
But we cannot forget the one who died a long the way.
Their souls and memories should never be fogotten.
They gave their lives for our freedom.
Now we give our love for their lives.
poem by Michael Peterson
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Soldier's Ghost
I bled for you - would you for me?
I blessed a skin in blazing fuel
Then took a bullet in a duel of
‘He or I to Die.'
I often question ‘Why? '
Do you?
My country was my life to give -
Would you for country cease to live?
Sinking in a mire of death,
You have no choice -
So while you're still alive,
Rejoice!
I cried in failure - did you care?
And as I waned, were you aware of
What I did -?
Fighting for my country while you hid
Behind your comfort back at home?
Still relaxed?
My wife and child are fading at the tomb.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2009
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Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
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Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
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war war war war war war war war war war war war
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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In A Soldier...You Will Find...
In a soldier...
Loyalty and strength you see.
In a soldier...
Discipline, bravery.
In a soldier...
A world that is free.
In a soldier..
Sacrifice, so the world can be free.
In a soldier...
No compromise.
In a soldier...
Courage in his eyes.
In a soldier...
A special bond.
In a soldier...
Iraq, Viet-Nam.
In a soldier...
Sad, drooped eyes.
In a soldier...
Pain, when a buddy dies.
In a soldier...
Terrible places.
In a soldier...
Tough, grim faces.
In a soldier...
Stories untold.
In a soldier...
Action makes him old.
In a soldier...
Dark, frightening nights.
In a soldier...
Missing his lovely wife.
In a soldier...
Memories of a decent life.
In a soldier...
Scars deep in the mind.
In a soldier...
An exploding mine.
In a soldier...
The thrill of leaving war.
In a soldier...
No more pains anymore.
In a soldier...
No more tears.
In a soldier...
Leaving war, after a long, trying year.
poem by Philip Lore
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Long Live the Soldier
The young soldier rushes into the war,
with love in his heart,
protecting his country,
protecting his family.
All of this love will go to waste,
when this soldier meets his fate.
Long live this soldier,
his heart so true,
for he faught for the lives of me and you.
Let us keep his story living long,
telling everyone of how he was strong.
He was strong with love,
with pity in his heart,
for those that he killed with
just one shot.
Running away from all of his fears,
trying not to drown in his tears,
he kills and wins the war but was wounded.
He died in a peacefull hospital,
knowing he had saved many lives,
but knowing also that he ended more.
He prayed everyday,
and lied to no one,
this is how he died,
respected, loved, and brave.
poem by Alexandria Bunch
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Mother’s Cry of Late
Where for art thou, soldier?
Out East? West? –
And when? –
What part your rabid history?
And why? –
What wrought your destiny? –
For whom
You’d wreak your enmity –
I crave your fate to pen!
What comprehension of the
Order? –
‘Listen up! you men!
Raze to ground the taken land!
See they die and e’er you’ll stand, for
Death is but a grain of sand –
The mighty triumph, medal grand!
Now go you well!
Amen! ’
What sight upon the bloody lie
Of war? – your doubtful fate.
‘Where for art thou, soldier? ’ –
Your mother’s cry of late.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2011
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
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soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier soldier
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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What You Find
There is discipline in A Soldier
you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier
you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier
you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier
that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier
that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier
that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man
can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man
buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after
an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier
even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first
and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what
comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian -
I am saying this to you.....
next time you see A Soldier
remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land
is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave
protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier -
I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER
Thank God for what YOU do!
TY bohls
Part Of America Died
Part Of America Died
Somebody killed a soldier today
And part of America died
The child who shot him won't even be punished
After counsel asks his record not be tarnished
The flag of our country he swore to protect
Will be buried, with him, at his side
Today more of America died
The truck that he rode, was a battlefield too
A respite from a hard day at war
The flag of our nation won't fly at half staff
The purple heart they gave on his behalf
Won't change that a part of America died
Yes, Somebody killed a brave soldier today
It happened this day in a land, far away
While some slept in comfort, at home
A soldier put his life on the line
He answered the call then gave it his all
And on this day much of America died
Jim 1972
poem by James Casey
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A Soldier- Dedicated to Nicholas Shelton
There is discipline in A Soldier you can see it when he walks,
There is honor in A Soldier you hear it when he talks.
There is courage in A Soldier you can see it in his eyes,
There is loyalty in A Soldier that he will not compromise.
There is something in A Soldier that makes him stand apart,
There is strength in A Soldier that beats from his heart.
A Soldier isn't a title any man can be hired to do,
A Soldier is the soul of that man buried deep inside of you.
A Soldier's job isn't finished after an 8 hour day or a 40 hour week,
A Soldier is always A Soldier even while he sleeps.
A Soldier serves his country first and his life is left behind,
A Soldier has to sacrifice what comes first in a civilian's mind.
If you are civilian - I am saying this to you..... next time you see A Soldier remember what they do.
A Soldier is the reason our land is 'Home of the free',
A Soldier is the one that is brave protecting you and me.
If you are A Soldier - I am saying this to you.....
Thank God for EVERY SOLDIER Thank God for what YOU do!
I thought about you Mr. Shelton, I figured this is the least I could do to thank you my friend.
poem by Caleb Jones
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Only A Soldier's Grave
Only a soldier's grave! Pass by,
For soldiers, like other mortals, die.
Parents had he - they are far away;
No sister weeps o'er the soldier's clay;
No brother comes, with tearful eye;
It's only a soldier's grave - pass by.
True, he was loving, and young, and brave,
Though no glowing epitaph honors his grave;
No proud recital of virtues known,
Of griefs endured, or triumphs won;
No tablet of marble, or obelisk high; -
Only a soldier's grave: - pass by.
Yet bravely he wielded his sword in fight,
And he gave his life in the cause of right!
When his hope was high, and his youthful dream
As warm as the sunlight on yonder stream;
His heart unvexed by sorrow or sigh; -
Yet, 'tis only a soldier's grave: - pass by.
Yet, we should mark it - the soldier's grave,
Some one may seek him in hope to save!
Some of the dear ones, far away,
Would bear him home to his native clay:
'Twere sad, indeed, should they wander nigh,
Find not the hillock, and pass him by.
poem by S.A. Jones
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The Fallen Soldier
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home.
Trickling Down His Face A Tear,
Forgetting How It Feels To Fear
Death And All It's Fate And Glory.
Now It's Here, No Need To Worry.
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
He's One Of Those They'll All Forget;
The Life He Lived, The Goals He Set,
The Ones He Loved, The Ones Who Wait
To See His Nearly Forgotten Face.
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
Now Breathing's Just A Waste Of Breath
And Living's Just A Waste Of Death
As He Searches For A New Address;
A Brand New Home Free Of Loneliness.
Fallen Soldier All Alone
Fallen Soldier Far From Home
Lying Motionless On The Ground,
The Battle Raging All Around.
For Now He Is Not All Alone.
This Fallen Soldier Is Welcomed Home.
poem by Branden Hidalgo
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Only A Soldier's Grave
Only a soldier's grave! Pass by,
For soldiers, like other mortals, die.
Parents he had--they are far away;
No sister weeps o'er the soldier's clay;
No brother comes, with a tearful eye:
It's only a soldier's grave--pass by.
True, he was loving, and young, and brave,
Though no glowing epitaph honors his grave;
No proud recital of virtues known,
Of griefs endured, or of triumphs won;
No tablet of marble, or obelisk high;--
Only a soldier's grave--pass by.
Yet bravely he wielded his sword in fight,
And he gave his life in the cause of right!
When his hope was high, and his youthful dream
As warm as the sunlight on yonder stream;
His heart unvexed by sorrow or sigh;--
Yet,'tis only a soldier's grave:--pass by.
Yet, should we mark it--the soldier's grave,
Some one may seek him in hope to save!
Some of the dear ones, far away,
Would bear him home to his native clay:
'Twere sad, indeed, should they wander nigh,
Find not the hillock, and pass him by.
poem by Sidney Alroy Jonas
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I was a Soldier once
Old, tired, physically worn out,
With every move my muscles shout.
Woodworking, gardening, lazing about,
nothing to do but widdle and pout.
I was a Soldier once, large and strong,
I was a Soldier once, doing no wrong.
I was a Soldier once, fighting your war,
I was a Soldier once, mighty to the core.
I sit behind a desk now, slowly getting fat,
Knowing where I should really be settling my hat.
This civilian life I live, is so deadly to me,
I should, again, be a soldier, a sight to see.
I was a Soldier once, Yes Sir, No Sir, anything you say Sir.
I was a Soldier once; it was the life I preferred.
I was a Soldier once, leading from the saddle.
I was a Soldier once, living in my battle rattle.
Those that have never been one shall never know.
Those that put them down can basically go blow.
In this day and age, Soldiers protect our Freedom
In this day and age, everyone should be one.
I know this because,
I was a Soldier once, protecting you and yours.
I was a Soldier once, with back to back fighting tours.
I was a Soldier once, dying for the American way.
and although I was a Soldier once,
I should be a Soldier Now, fighting for you every day.
poem by Rik Bertrand
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Soldier Going To The War
Soldier going to the war--
Will you take my heart with you,
So that I may share a little
In the famous things you do?
Soldier going to the war--
If in battle you must fall,
Will you, among all the faces,
See my face the last of all?
Soldier coming from the war--
Who shall bind your sunburnt brow
With the laurel of the hero,
Soldier, soldier--vow for vow!
Soldier coming from the war--
When the street is one wide sea,
Flags and streaming eyes and glory--
Soldier, will you look for me?
poem by Richard Le Gallienne
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Freedom Isn't Free...
Who says our freedom is free? Not Me.
True, We are freer than most, but not enough,
that we should boast.
Before you say Freedom is free, stop and count the cost
of all the lives lost,
Freedom isn't free, when there's killing in our streets.
Freedom isn't free, to the Soldier that is waiting to be shipped over seas.
Freedom isn't free, with the pain, he or she is feeling inside, with
the thought of having to leave they're loved one's behind, and
it hurts so bad that it brings them to their knees.
Freedom isn't free, when your living in uncertainty.
Freedom isn't free, having to say good-bye, to a loved one that
is going off to war.Freedom isn't free, to a soldier who is on the front lines, knowing he or she, could die anytime.
Freedom isn't free when your lying in bed,
waiting and wondering, if you'll ever see your loved ones alive again.
Freedom isn't free, when a little child crys in the night,
for his or her Mommy and Daddy, and they're not there to hold them close, and comfort them, and to ease their fears, and wipe away they're tears. And all those in all the other wars, and the lives that are still being lost at this very moment.
Do you still say Freedom is free?
Freedom isn't free, when a Soldier is wounded in battle.
When news reaches, Family and friends at home,
And their told that their Soldier is wounded far beyond repair,
The loss and pain felt can not compare.
Freedom isn't free, with all those many Soldiers that wished they
had died because of all the pain in their broken up bodies.
Freedom isn't free, when your lying in bed, and you hear that dreaded
tap on your door.And you pray to God that you were only having a bad dream.
Freedom isn't free when you open the door and listen to the
bugle play, and you feel a sudden chill.
Everything goes still.
Freedom isn't free, when there is a Flag being draped
over a coffin, of a Brother, Sister, or a friend.
Freedom isn't free, when you think of all the children,
of the mothers and the wives, of Fathers, sons and husbands, whose
lives have been interrupted.
Freedom isn't free, when you think about the graveyard at the
bottom of the sea, of the unmarked graves in Arlington.
Who say's Freedom is Free? Not Me!
Written 7/23/008
BY Nora Eason
poem by Nora Eason
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Promise Of A Lie
Go to war young soldier,
Your glory will be praised.
Go to war young soldier,
Your home will stay the same.
Fight for us young soldier,
worry naught about your love.
Fight for us young soldier,
She waits for your return.
Welcome home young soldier,
Heres the medal upon your chest.
Welcome home young soldier,
Your life is now a mess.
Go away young soldier,
We have no more use for you.
Go away young soldier,
Till we call again for you.
The Cost Of Freedom
He died serving our country,
in a land far away.
He gave his life for freedom.
They buried him today.
He loved family more than life,
and had to do what's right.
To protect them and his country,
he joined in the fight.
Next time you see a soldier,
don't just pass him by.
Thank him for his service.
81415He might be next to die.
How great the cost of freedom.
How brave those who defend.
Protect them Lord, that they may
safely come back home again.
poem by Ron Tranmer
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Like A Toy Soldier
Like a toy soldier,
We were pushed to the war front,
Some gave up on the way,
Some fell by the enemy’s bullet,
Yet, all in all,
We were all tools in your hand.
Like a toy soldier,
You gather us together,
Each serving different functions,
Some for good, and some for bad,
Some to serve as example to others,
Yet at the peak of our life,
We will eventually realise,
You have always been our director,
We were actors in a play.
Like a toy soldier,
We have always moved like zombie,
When those in front fall,
We never take lessons,
We still fall for the mistake of our fathers.
Like a toy soldier,
Those who do not have life,
Who cannot even rule their own homes,
Have always been the ones that rule us,
Those who actually could make things happen,
Prefar to stay put like a monkey,
And watch in entertainment, our degraded economy,
Unwanted children fill our homes,
Hungry mouths cry for help,
Innocent bloods are still being shed,
Yet nobody seemed to care,
As long as they make their living.
Like a toy soldier,
When I look at others,
I really wished I could copy them,
Yet on a second thought,
When I take a closer look,
I found out, they were already copying me.
Like a toy soldier,
I may not have the life I desire yet,
I may even feel unhappy with myself now,
Yet I chose to add meaning to other lives,
By making my own life relevant.
poem by Olumide Bisiriyu
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Deaf Gunpowder
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
Get off of your battlefield
Let me take you to a place
Where your weapons are sealed.
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
Look me in the eye
Your heart hasn’t chosen to be here
Then why are you here?
Ask yourself why.
Come on soldier.
Soldier?
It’s time to breathe
It’s time to stop fighting for your life,
For something you don’t believe.
Hey soldier?
Soldier?
I do understand
It wasn’t your choice to be here
But you chose not to fight for that;
You chose to fight for someone else.
That is why in life you were not alive
But when you died,
That was when you started to breathe.
Hey soldier?
Soldier?
I know you cannot hear
Because you strived
You are alive
To you death will never come near.
poem by Mehreen Mujeeb
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The Old Soldiers Grave
I sit near an old soldier's grave
Reading the words upon his tombstone,
Brushing away the dirt and moss
To see: 'Died 1944 - In Battle at Bastogne'.
I wonder when, and how, his folks received the sad news-
I wonder, how often afterward they cried;
And did they continue so missing him...
Until their own time came to die.
Is there anyone left, who remembers this man-
Am I alone, the only one who cares anymore;
How long Lord before none ponder the price paid
To win the second world war?
So many of those who did return home
Sadly, have now with age passed on;
May we never forget what bit they all gave
In the greatest combined human effort, the world's freedom to save.
' Some gave all,
All gave some. '
So true; thank God they did not quit
Until the work was completely done.
With tears of thankfulness laying upon my cheeks
My heart sings words, I am unable to speak,
Words of far love, and deep admiration I do have
For all those who fought then... like my dad.
Now, as the old soldiers slowly fade away
With words of respect and reverent regard I try to say,
How much, like my missed father, they all mean to me-
For without their courage we'd never know the truth of liberty.
I believe I'll sit here awhile longer...
Allowing my heart and soul to grow a bit stronger,
Just sitting and praying by this old soldier's grave...
Hoping to become more like him: good, bold, and brave.
Together we shall sing along
This, our favorite song:
God Bless America, again -
God, please do bless all those, past and future, just like him.
poem by Smoky Hoss
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The Dead whno Died for Ireland
The dead who died for Ireland!
Oh, these are living words
To nerve the hearts of patriots —
to steel avenging swords —
They thrill the soul when spoken,
and lowly bend the head
With reverence for the memories
of all our martyred dead.
The dead who died for Ireland —
the noble ones — the best,
Who gave their lives for Motherland,
Who poured upon her breast,
In Freedom's cause, the blood she gave —
Who with their dying breath,
Sent prayers to God to heal her woes —
then sealed their love in death.
The dead who died for Ireland,
How hallowed are their graves!
With all the memories fresh and green,
Oh! how could we be slaves?
How could we patient clang the chain?
How could we fawn and bow?
How could we crouch like mongrels
'neath the keeper's frowning brow?
Be proud, ye men of Ireland!
Be proud of those who died;
Never men o'er all the earth
Had greater cause for pride —
Hope and strive, and league for freedom,
And again the souls will rise
Of the dead who died for Ireland
To cheer you to the prize.
poem by John Boyle O'Reilly
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Think of a Soldier
I wait for him, yes its true.
The melting of a heart with an 'I LoveYou.'
My soldier isnt here right now,
which deepens the pain I have in me.
I wish he were home with me.
I wish he knew how I think of him.
And how badly it hurts to now touch his hand.
All thats known anymore is his picture and his memories.
he left them all behind.
His calls are sparing, and his emails arent too long,
but I still wait for him to come back.
I think of this man as the one who saved me.
He has shown me many times what is right.
He fights for the parts of life others never recognize.
If he only tried to show his feelings,
and not try to be so cold.
This soldier loves me I know.
I think of a soldier.
This soldier needs to be home.
poem by KitKat Smithh
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