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Poems On / About SOLDIER  7/25/2014 6:18:09 AM
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  237.     

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
 
Jayram Daya

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  238.     

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.
 
Francis Duggan

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  239.     

A Soldiers Pain

The soldier sits bloodied in his cell,
Knowing if he tells the U.S. will go to hell.
As sweat and blood drip down his face,
He’s wishing for that better place.
His family lay home grieving in pain,
Watching and waiting that he might remain.
The door flies open a whip is shown,
As he lay on the wood block all he could do is moan.
His body brittle weak and scared,
His mind messed up, his hope impaired.
He got up the courage to fight the men,
His life turned around when he knew he could win.
Six years later he lay on death bed,
When a church decided soldiers were hated.
While our soldiers are in pain we sit and complain.
If our nation stands up in God’s name,
Our people’s support will heal our soldier’s pain.
 
Daniel Cowgill

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  240.     

soldier

if im a soldier, to you
why am i sittin' lookin' out the window
wantin' for a sign a reson for....

losing my composure,
i'm collapsing
i just can't find the answers
so why do think i'm a soldier?

i'm waiting for a sign
waitin' for a reson
of why you think i'm the soldier?
when i'm losted my composure

i'm collapsing
with pain they caused
tho they'ed never know
dose that make me a hero?
cause i think i'm a zero

i've lost my composure
i just can't take it
i just might just takeoff
don't morn just let me takeoff

i'm trying to find the answer's
'cause i feel i'm losing my mind
i wish i could rewind
to before i was assigned

so why do think i'm a soldier?
 
Roseanne Lambert

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