Second World War Soldier's Return
A short brown soldier
Fought the world war
In the Burman land,
For four years,
With his skin tearing away,
On bieng removed,
Drinking rum,
Ducking bullets,
Sharpnel from crumbling
Buildings and glass windows,
He was shot and removed
To the heap of dead,
The family getting
The news, did last rites
For him, the war ending,
His parent's mounning
Their dear son's death,
Still part of lasr rites
Conducting saw
The apparition of their son,
On the doorway,
They howled in horror
When their son
Told them he has returned
Crawling fron dead's heap
And reached home
To the amazement
Of the villagers talking
Of the second birth of the soldier.
poem by Ravikiran Arakkal
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Related quotes
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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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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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
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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A Story of Two Soldiers
A story of a soldier, with a heart
Who came upon a dead Japanese soldier
With a letter sticking out his pocket, in the war
This soldier took the letter, obviously
The important treasure of the dead one.
He framed it and stored it;
Another man's most prized possessions,
Of a child's colored picture, and a baby's photo.
Years later, and someone notices
The framed paper, and suggests
Trying to track down the original family
And though it seems impossible:
The impossible is accomplished,
Through another soldier's care, though he was
A stranger to the poor dead soldier
He must have felt their close brotherhood,
As two soldiers engaged in a difficult war.
And there is a woman now,
Who cradles the picture she colored
As a small child; and her baby sister
In the photo at the top; also living, now an adult
She said, Father never returned to us
We never had a chance to know him
But now we know him; he's come back
We know who he was thinking about
At the end- this man gave our father back to us.
And the old soldier has a new friend now;
If you treat the other side's soldier as no less
Than your own family
His family will come to know you in time,
As truest friend,
And closer to heart
Than any grief could ever reach.
poem by Patti Masterman
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A foot soldier
When I was hurt & lost someone dear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When the going got tough with nothing to gear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the faith felt small & doubts really bigger
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When the sky was dark & nothing seemed near
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the wounds were hurting with no immediate cure
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the hopes were grim & nothing was clear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When storms came hard striking some fear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
I fought & fought & I fought till the victory was sure
Yes, I could do it because I am a foot soldier
poem by Ameya Deshpande
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Kargil Warfare
Words shall never describe
what a soldier is
with a family brave
loosing in wars
all they have
yet smiling to the nation's pride
such is what a soldier is
for when they came with guns and arms
the soldier faced it all
heads held high
for the nation
he was ready to die
such is the sacrifice a soldier makes
and yes!
words shall never describe
what a soldier is
Kargil was the place
this time the fight was for mother land
the soldier could not be held
he marched
without fear
smoke rose high
there on the dusty land
fought the soldier
with no fear of death
he knew beneath
he had to win
and yes he did
his land he saved
but lost many his friends
and we salute
bow our head
for our words shall never describe
what a soldier is.
poem by Areena Arora
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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
Dear, Soldier Boy
Dear, Soldier Boy,
How I miss you so.
I think about you everyday,
And when you're coming home.
Dear, Soldier Boy,
I hope you write back soon.
Tomorrow's Sarah's birthday.
Her party starts at noon.
Dear, Soldier Boy,
I love you more each day.
My love for you grows stronger,
The longer you're away.
Dear, Soldier Boy,
I haven't heard from you at all.
Maybe I will get a letter,
By the time of Fall.
Dear, Soldier Boy,
June 15,2008.
They told me you were wounded,
And they got you help too late.
Dear, Soldier Boy,
How I miss you so.
I think about you everyday,
And why you didn't come back home
poem by Jessica Beal
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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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My Soldier
I see it on the news.
Stories of soldiers being killed.
I always prayed that it's not you,
I wish I knew that you were safe,
I don't think that I can handle your death,
You are my soldier, and you
Mean everything to me….
The bombs exploding, I pray that you aren't hit.
That would cause my world to end.
I needed you in my life.
I pray that you would come home soon.
I know it was your dream
To be a soldier, protect the innocent
Tell me this, is it worth dying for?
Who is the enemy you are fighting?
Dead scared child with a gun?
Made me see that this war is useless
There is no hero, only a grief in a war
I wish war would end soon….
For you to come home, I missed you
I barely do anything these days
My heart stops, when I hear the door bell
Afraid to see a soldier on my door step
Telling me my worst fear, not seeing you live
Just heard the news of soldiers being killed.
I prayed that it was not you, my soldier.....
poem by Dush Swaranga
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This Is Not Your Country
Road blocks and fire
Barb wire upon barb wire
This is not your country
Armoured cars, corrugated scars
Grafitti scrawls:
This is not your country
Home sweet fortress
Gunshot - we hate your kind
Get back !
This is not your country
I need some air
And Im stopped and repeatedly questioned:
Born and raised ?
But this is not my country
Were old news
Alls well
Say bbc scum
One child shot, but so what ?
Laid my son
In a box, three feet long
And I still dont know why
A short walk home becomes a run
And Im scared
In my own country
Were old news
Alls well
Say bbc scum
Everybodys under control
Of our surveillance globes
Were old news
Alls well
And thirty years could be a thousand
And this peugeot ad
Spins round in my head
British soldier pointing a gun
And Im only trying to post a letter
A short walk home becomes a run
And Im scared, and Im scared, I am scared
Old news
Alls well
Bbc scum
Youve got more than the dead, so zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Youve got more than the dead, so zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Youve got more than the dead, so zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Zip up your mouth
Youve got more than the dead, so zip up your mouth
song performed by by Morrissey
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Little Soldier Boy
Little Soldier boy, fight hard.
Fight for your country, your family, your friends.
Fight for me, little soldier boy.
Keep your head high, your spirit strong.
Be safe, little soldier boy.
Return in one piece.
And if the Lord should take you home,
then so be it.
We love you, little soldier boy.
We pray for you every night.
And hope to hold you tight soon.
I love my little soldier boy.
Come home little soldier boy.
Come back to your family.
Come back to me.
My little soldier boy.
Come home soon.
poem by Nedra Pepin
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Soldier's Tree
They call this tree the Soldier's Tree
It honours one whose life blood was shed
A victim of the First World War
'Lest we forget our soldier dead'.
I read the plaque nailed to the tree
It stated his date of birth and name
A tree to honour his bravery
But to dead soldier what use fame? .
I see he was just seventeen
So young so very young to die
Those who sent him to fight in war
Must share blame for death of the boy.
Fighting more than half a World away
And at the end what was his gain?
Gunned down by one he'd never known
Hope death was quick without much pain.
How can one that you've never known
Ever become your enemy?
Those who send men to die in wars
Of guilt must not be made feel free.
I read the plaque on Soldier's Tree
On war memorial avenue
A lad who died at seventeen
Gunned down by one he never knew.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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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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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A Phantom In The Mediterranean
a phantom is haunting the mediterranean sea
it is the phantom of an italian soldier
his jacket with torn out buttans on his back filthy
his flesh pierced into pieces
and his temples bloody
fearing to fall intoı the space
his voice is echoing
he is screaming in the mediterranean
and he embraces the sun at daylight
then embraces the stars at night
ı know this soul
he was a fugitive soldier when alive
if he had not been shot to death
he would have lived for many many years now
this is the soul ı know
he fled in arduva from the war-front
he ran away in haste
leaving his fire-arm behind
like an animal running away from fire
neither for his ideas
nor for his claims righteous
he ran away only for not bto die
but only to survive
till then he did not know anything about death
he never read hamlet nor a poem fron dante
he had not ever a slight idea about death
about the mystery of it described in the books
when he was being shot to death
suıddeenly a wedding prayer has come tpo his mind
and he began to recite that prayer
when the guns aimed to him fired
he was not fearing from death
he was fearing from being dead
he wanted most
only to li, ve..only to survive
above all..above everything
he only wanted to survive
with women
without women
satisfied..fed up
or hungry
he only wanted to live
like an ordinary tree
ordinary bird
ordinary cloud
ordinary fish
to live like
water in a glass
or oil
like fistful of soıl
he was fearing from being dead
wanting not to be dead
but he wanted only to survive
only to live a life ordinary
on one morning
when a flower was sprotıng and blooming on his stem
he was being shot to death unknowing and unaware
now
it is his phantom
haunting the mediterranean
him..nobody nobody knows and feels
but only ı can feel and see
nazım HİKMET
translatıon Metin ŞAHİN
poem by Metin Sahin
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Lost Soldier Boy
I watched him
as he marched off to go fight
in that great Civil War
that I now see as nothing
but foolishness.
He had turned back
to wave at me
and tell me not to worry.
He reminded me
to write him every single day,
and promised me
that he would do the same.
Many months I waited.
I wrote him everyday,
just like I had promised.
How many letter he actually recieved
I will never know.
I told him of the town.
Of his little sister being married.
Oh they were a glorious couple.
So happy so true.
Many months passed me by
while I waited
waited for my lost soldier boy.
Time dragged on
and I had not heard from my soldier boy.
There was talk
that the war would soon be over.
My family beseeched me to move on.
'He's more than likely dead.'
They would say
'You need to live your life.'
But I just couldn't.
And so I kept waiting
waiting for my lost soldier boy.
Then the war finally ended.
And all the boys
came home as men.
And we celebrated our defeat
for the war was over
and no more had to die.
But I could not celebrate
for there was one
who did not come home.
It was my dear
lost soldier boy.
poem by Tylee Xian
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At The Grave Of The Unknown Soldier
He was a brave soldier he died young and brave
And for more than six decades he lay in his grave
And still at the dawning of each war memorial day
At his grave site a young bugler the last post does play.
Known as the Unknown Soldier one without a name
Still he had a mum and a dad just the same
And when he did not return home when the fighting was done
They grieved at their loss and they wept for their son.
The war to end all wars of all wars 'tis said
But more wars are fought and we have more war dead
And at the grave of the unknown soldier the last post is played
And to honour the war dead another parade.
Old war men do tell us young soldiers fight and die
For freedom and liberty that is a lie
They went to war when young they are now old and gray
Some grow old not wiser some are known to say.
That they were fighting for freedom and justice they believed to be true
And they were quite gallant to give them their due
But many deprived of their human rights in the World of today
And that does seem a very sad thing for to say.
With heads bowed old men showing their years in gray
At the grave of the Unknown Soldier at the dawn of the day
In silence do listen as a young bugler the last post does play
For one who fought and died in a war far away.
poem by Francis Duggan
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I Want to be a Soldier
I will be a soldier
Only when soldiers realize
They are not animals or
cattles
Only if soldiers can ask
'Why should I shoot that
innocent man? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers can ask the
commander
'Why should we shoot at
the children? '
I would be a soldier
If soldiers know that
The red blood that runs
through their veins
Runs in the rest peopl's too.
I would be a soldier if
Soldiers know they aren't
what they ask them to be
When they know that
The Emperor will never ask
them to kill his children
I would be a soldier
When soldiers realize war
is inhuman
When soldiers know war
always starts war
When they know that
World peace can not be
reached through war
When United Nations can
ask themselves
Is war the only way to end
corruption in the globe?
When soldiers know the
distance between peace and
war.
When soldiers realize how
intoxicative the gun is.
When soldiers realize
that gun does not control
them, but they control it.
I would be a soldier only if
soldiers know
why Martin Luther King jnr.
was killed.
If they know Adolf Hitler
also tried to make peace
through war.
I would be a soldier
If they can tell me why they
are only trained to kill.
I would be a soldier if
soldier can say
NO TO BRUTE LEADERS.
I would be a soldier if
soldiers know
the difference between
death and birth.
I would be a soldier if they
can tell
Why they are weapons of
destruction?
If they can explain why they
killed at Vietnam?
Why they killed at Somalia?
Why Ghadafi was killed
without trial?
Why Abraham Lincoln was
shot
Why Ghandi was killed,
Why they dont care if they
die in war in the name of
peace.
I would be a soldier If soldiers know they have rights If soldiers know they need Freedom. I would be a soldier If the goverments around the world realize How wonderful the world would be If the money invests in atomic weapons can be spent To feed billions of children on the streets of India, Nigeria, Brazil, South Africa The United States and all the streets of the World. I would be a soldier when soldiers can fight for liberty And not for slavery When soldiers know that nobody should think for them When soldiers know they are humans not cattles, When they realize that nobody should tell them what to think and what to feel. If soldiers can be humans, I would be a soldier.
poem by Idris Adesina
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Young Soldier
Stay calm soldier
Do not panic
Stay calm soldier
And think of what you were taught
You're too young to die
My soldier
You're too young to leave
Run soldier
From the danger ahead
Run soldier
Don't be brave
You're too young to die
My soldier
You're too young to leave
Fight soldier
The enemy that fights you
Fight soldier
And make it though the day
You're too young to die
My soldier
You're too young to leave
Come home soldier
I miss you terribly
Come home soldier
To me and your family
You're too young to die
My soldier
Don't ever leave me
poem by Only Yours
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The Irish Soldier
The Irish soldier, cast for fight,
Stood to his arms at dead of night,
Watching the east, until its ray
To the battle--field should show his way;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though they call you slave,
And though you but help a bandit hand
Uncheck'd to kill in your native land.
The soldier thought on his chance of doom--
How the trampled sod might be his tomb--
How, in evening's dusk, his sightless stare
To the small pale stars might upward glare;--
Soldier, soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight though you think of the grave--
Though it yawn so near you, black and chill,
Honor and courage man you still.
And o'er his solemn brow he made
The Christian sign, and humbly said--
``Your prayers, good saints, if I should fall;
And for mercy, O Lord, on you I call!''--
Irish soldier, soldier brave,
You will fight, although you crave
The prayers of the saints your own to aid,
And the sign of the cross on your brow have made.
The morning broke--the bugle blew--
The voice of command the soldier knew,
And stern and straight in the van he stood,
And shouting, he rush'd to the work of blood;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
Thousands lay round you, crimson'd and cold--
But over their bodies you still fought on,
Till down you sank as the day was won.
And the Irish soldier now hath come,
Worn, and wounded, and crippled, home,
The hated, and slander'd, and scorn'd of those
Who safely slept while he faced their foes;--
Irish soldier, soldier bold,
In your native land you now are told
'Twas traitor--blood on that field you lost,
For you call'd on the saints, and your brow you cross'd!
poem by John Banim
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