The Soldier
The soldier stood, so noble-
Quite still his moment of silence;
A silhouette of but a statue.
Expressionless face a marble slate,
Hard posture a sign of strength,
He posed.
To cast a weary look in the eye perhaps one would see,
See terror, the trauma, a haunted past,
Of a lone man’s reverie.
Copyright © Allie Ogletree | Year Posted 2011
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