The Last Soldier of War
It stood motionless in the deathly breeze
Tall and proud it stood
Amongst fields of sweeping silence
The colour of its many arms
Alone on an otherwise blank canvas
Then the thing appeared
A fiery cloud
Consuming it
Enveloping it into nothing
When the cloud retreated
It was no more
The last soldier of war
Its innocence
Like many
Forgotten
As it joined the colour less wasteland
Of a forgotten time
Though there is still hope in those souls alone
Happy in knowing
There will be no more
After the last soldier of war
poem by Annie Clarke
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The Forgotten Soldier
The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Scarred for all eternity. Searching for divinity. Prayer yet to be answered. Smoking has just brought cancer. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Looking for forgiveness in all the wrong places. So many name and so many faces. An anecdotal pun he has become. A history lesson has been undone. Wars never can be won. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. In his eyes lies the blood of many. Sleepless nights of sacrifice and murder. And in the end their is no one to comfort him. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Times have changed. Now he can only wish he was flying a jet plane. Treated like dirt. Crippled and weak. And the man just turns the other cheek. The forgotten soldier. Hes getting older. Hes getting colder. Today is his birthday and he spends it in a nursing home all alone. To all he is forgotten dead and gone. But i remember, i remember all the forgotten soldiers.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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I Am A Soldier
I am a soldier
It started as a dream, a simple soldier from the street getting lost in a shacking world
I took a job as a street keeper but in my mind I am a mental child
From time to time I would battle in my dream trying to win a lost war
I open my eyes in the middle of the day saying goodbye to my boss as I walk away
I walk down street only to tried my limit, in my mind, my distant is unlimited
In the world I am the forgotten soldier lost in an open battle field
“I am the forgotten soldier, living as a legend on the street of nowhere, trying to take my place in this world”
I tried to understand my place in this world as I look side to side
I turn around to see who is targeting this lost soldier
Is my lost soul still a threat in the eye s of the world or am I the forgotten soldier that was blindly cast out
Away in a mental battle field
Please remember this young soldier and help me find my way in what remain of me
I am the forgotten soldier living as a mist in the eye of many
I am a living legend on the street of no where
“I am the forgotten soldier, living as a legend on the street of nowhere trying to take my place in this world”
Find this forgotten soldier and welcome me in a peaceful neighborhood where my mind would freely win the war
“I am the forgotten soldier, living as a legend on the street of nowhere trying to take my place in this world”
poem by Robert Otim
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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
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier soldier soldier war
Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier Soldier
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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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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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Our Son
Our Son the Soldier
How great a man he must be
To be joined in the fight to
set another part of the world free
Our Son the Soldier
So very proud of you we are
To all of us who love you,
you will always be our shining star
Our Son the Soldier
So far from home and in a foreign place
Just close your eyes to
see a familiar smiling face
Our Son the Soldier
So very far away
We will all be waiting with open
arms on your coming home day
poem by Denise Girod
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Every Soldier Has A Dream
After a war a soldier sometimes has to cry as dreams of those memories waters in the eye.
It's very sad when this world of ours goes to war.
Peace is the thing that soldiers have fought and died for.
With hands held in the air a soldier cries a bit but people are blind to dreams that do not fit.
Some people abuse this world but one day they'll find that they've lost their battlefields and they are unklind.
Lost battlefields and dreams with no victories won, following the forgotten hero.
Here they come.
They bury the dream because they cannot recall what it was that made the Soldier stand proud and tall.
Soldiers come from all walks of life.
Sisters.
Brothers.
Soldiers with many dreams seldom shared with others.
Soldiers who had loved ones and families back home.
Some soldiers are just children
and still on their own.
Honoured I feel to remember soldiers this way.
I salute them have I your attention I say.
Stand at ease,
fall out.
Sir nobody knew his name.
Dear God you know who he was our dream was the same.
Undaunted was the soldier in the face of fear.
No turning back.
Each soldier shed a silent tear.
But I wonder why no one hears the soldiers cry.
Listen today as soldiers go to fight and die .
Try to imagine the soldiers forgotten dream.
Keep the memory of what the Soldier
had been.
It haunts us today and remains here in our time.
Ghosts with forgotten dreams remain.
Its such a crime.
What the soldier fought for is what we must redeem,
as we look back and try to recapture the dream.
The ship's sunk and they say,
we're glad we missed the cruise.
Don't take for granted things in life we shouldn't loose.
When the battle is over and the dreams don't sit.
Every soldier must cry just a little bit.
By Paul McCann
poem by Paul McCann
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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
Green and blue
Green and blue
First-named of colours believe these two.
They first of colours by men were seen
This grass colour, tree colour,
Sky colour, sea colour,
Magic-named, mystic-souled, blue and green.
Later came
Small subtle colours like tongues of flame,
Small jewel colours for treasure trove,
Not fruit colour, flower colour,
Cloud colour, shower colour,
But purple, amethyst, violet and mauve.
These remain,
Two broad fair colours for our larger gain
Stretched underfoot or spreading wide on high,
Green beech colour, vine colour,
Gum colour, pine colour,
Blue of the noonday and the moonlit sky.
poem by Lesbia Harford
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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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Tin Heart
Twenty five soldier boys standing in a line
Twenty five army toys made out of tin
But the last one was broken
Unfinished
Missing a leg
And he stood the straightest
Of them all
His line stood straight
Eyes facing forward
But our one legged soldier
Looked toward the doll house
She was a ballerina
He was a soldier boy
And he loved her
At night the toys come out to play
But our steadfast little soldier
Just longed for the ballerina
Out popped the Jack-in-the-box
Who mocked and scoffed
Why would the beautiful ballerina
Pick a broken soldier?
Any fool could see that Jack wanted her too
But the soldier just ignored him
The next day came
And the little boy set the soldier on the windowsill
But by terrible luck
Or maybe it was Jack
The window blew open and down the steadfast little soldier fell
All the way down
Some boys picked him up and made a boat
Out of paper
And sent him sailing down the Thames
Our steadfast tin soldier stood steady at the wheel
But he wished for the ballerina to stay his trembling heart
Through rapids and down waterfalls
He tumbled
Still standing steadfast at the helm
But the boat was made of paper
And eventually the soggy bottom tore
And down little soldier fell
Once more
But at the bottom of the river
A big fish swallowed him whole
And the tin soldier was trapped in the darkness of a ribcage
For a long
Long
Time
Then mama cut open the fish she was cooking up for dinner
And there was our steadfast little toy
She just smiled and put him above the hearth
And he was happy to be home
For he could see the ballerina once more
But the Jack-in-the-box leered with anger
And maybe it was him
Or maybe just a stray gust of wind
But the soldier fell from the mantle
And into the flames
The wind caught the ballerina too and she joined him in the coals
And in the morning
When mama swept out the hearth
All that was left of the soldier and the ballerina's love
Was a heart
Made out of tin
**Inspired by The Steadfast Tin Soldier by Hans Christen Andersen
poem by Tsunami HiroshiSu
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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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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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Our Soldier
In a passing parade
With a stern salute
Marches a soldier
For his countries glory
In a moving band
With disciplined steps
He is always ready
For the call of duty
With commands or orders
Alerted in attention
He braves ahead
For any task or mission
In the changing wars
From Mahabharata to Rome
He stood the time
For defence or attack
In a muscular body
With knowledge and skill
He practices and trains
For the final day
In many a names
As troopers or marines
Are snipers or gunners
For a forgotten soldier
In a power self possessed
With rewards and expertise
He is charismatic
For the ultimate authority
In pain and suffering
When wounded and crippled
The soldier lives on
For the pride of his country
In victory and defeat
Love your soldier
He is a countries asset
For he is a man of honour
poem by Jayram Daya
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Join Up
Choking smoke
Rolling thunder
The forgotten soldier
Still cries for his mother
Crouching still
with blood stench steaming
The forgotten soldier
Has lost all feeling.
Shocked eyes glance
From corpse strewn clay
Where wide eyed shattered
children lay
Time stands still
With no solid floor
He is reborn -
To face the eternal war.
A Soldier's King
None seemed to notice the man beside the road
He was just a raged soldier out there in the cold
But he seemed to have a purpose only known to him
As he walked along the streets that night through the town of Bethlahem.
In his head he held a memory of all the wars he'd known
In his hand he clutched a medal for the bravery he'd shown
And the weight of every battle he caried in his heart
But his eyes were clear and searching for a manger in the dark.
Chorus:
Some are born to greatness, some are born to fall
Some are bound to be forgotten like they never lived at all
But we're all born to know Him and stand befor His light
Like the soldier who found his king tonight.
He had marched for politicians, served under their command
And he fought for all the causes that he did not understand
But it was something deep inside him now that led him on his way
With a single star to guide him to were the baby lay.
Chorus:
Some are born to greatness, some are born to fall
Some are bound to be forgotten like they never lived at all
But we're all born to know Him and stand befor His light
Like the soldier who found his king tonight.
He stood before the Son of God, come to pay our debt
He smiled up at the soldier that the world would soon forget
So he held out his medal and said this for you I bring
There he swore aligiance to the newborn baby King.
Chorus:
Some are born to greatness, some are born to fall
Some are bound to be forgotten like they never lived at all
But we're all born to know Him and stand befor His light
Like the soldier who found his king tonight...
song performed by by Kenny Rogers
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Join the army
Choking smoke
Rolling thunder
The forgotten soldier
Still cries for his mother
Crouching still
with blood stench steaming
The forgotten soldier
Has lost all feeling.
Shocked eyes glance
From corpse strewn clay
Where wide eyed shattered
children lay
Time stands still
With no solid floor
He is reborn -
To face the eternal war.
poem by Willow Moon Pearce
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Handsworth Wood
Have ever you seen
On Halloween,
The cloud that covers the trees so green?
The shroud that covers the last of lovers
The shifting mist of the in-between?
I’ve stood, I’ve stood,
By Handsworth Wood,
I’ve stood as long as I thought I could;
All Hallow’s Eve is the night I grieve
My Genevieve of the purple hood.
She slipped between
The trees so green,
She slipped from me one Halloween;
The cloud had glimmered, the evening shimmered
But she was never to more be seen.
And since that cloud
Became a shroud,
I’ve not forgotten the words I vowed;
My patience burns for the cloud’s return
To help discern what I might have been.
The day she left
I held my breath,
Her sleight of hand was so very deft;
But Genevieve, I still believe
You’ll wander out on some Hallow’s Eve.
I wait in vain,
There’s only rain,
The rain and part of the cloud remain;
But Genevieve I’ve not perceived
Since she went tripping in World’s End Lane.
World End’s Land
In Autumn rain,
There’s nothing left of my lost refrain;
For Handsworth Wood is a neighborhood
Where trees are held in a great disdain.
2 July 1977
poem by David Lewis Paget
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Belleau Wood
Oh, the snowflakes fell in silence
Over belleau wood that night
For a christmas truce had been declared
By both sides of the fight
As we lay there in our trenches
The silence broke in two
By a german soldier singing
A song that we all knew
Though I did not know the language
The song was silent night
Then I heard my buddy whisper,
all is calm and all is bright
Then the fear and doubt surrounded me
cause Id die if I was wrong
But I stood up on my trench
And I began to sing along
Then across the frozen battlefield
Anothers voice joined in
Until one by one each man became
A singer of the hymn
Then I thought that I was dreaming
For right there in my sight
Stood the german soldier
neath the falling flakes of white
And he raised his hand and smiled at me
As if he seemed to say
Heres hoping we both live
To see us find a better way
Then the devils clock struck midnight
And the skies lit up again
And the battlefield where heaven stood
Was blown to hell again
But for just one fleeting moment
The answer seemed so clear
Heavens not beyond the clouds
Its just beyond the fear
No heavens not beyond the clouds
Its for us to find it here
song performed by by Garth Brooks
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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