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Life Soldier Poems | Life Poems About Soldier

These Life Soldier poems are examples of Life poems about Soldier. These are the best examples of Life Soldier poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

The Center's Footsteps

Thoust message rings,
But it is a wretched beauty.
Sew up thine tongue;
It forks in many directions,
Ensnaring, passing through the centers,
Weaving a thread gleaming, deceivingly white,
Yet drenched in the black goo,
The sticky gobs of our source, our blood.
Cast aside thine needle,
Let time make it blunt.
Wallow in thine sorrow,
But only for a moment.
Up, up with you!
The sticky gobs cannot protect thee.
See me, Hear me.
For I see thee...
Thou hast split thine tongue
To hide, to forget.
Thine forked words, black to all, clear to me.
Go on, go ahead,
Walk through its enveloping black.
And when you cannot run,
Crawl.
And when you can’t do that anymore, 
Find someone to carry you.
Thou art strong!
Let thine center give you new feet!
Yet,
If even thine center falls weary,
I shalt be thine legs.
I shalt carry you, my friend.


Details | I do not know? | |

A Soldier Coming Home

He received the call in the middle of the night,
be to work by sunrise, you'll be taking a flight.
Go to a land where freedom will rise,
men will stand proud and wipe tears from their eyes.
Suicide bombers for a man who controlled,
brutality to the people, dignity he had stole.
The soldier would travel to a far distant land,
where oil was vass and towns made on sand.
He fought for his country, he life sealed with fate,
his family remembers  the call on this date.
It was warm in Sepember, he was out on patrol,
explosives were used and would  soon take its toll.
He fought the good fight for freedom was sought,
much food and some water, America brought.
But he would come home boxed with a flag draped on top,
violence was something that he tried to stop.
He left earth the hero, he had fought with much pride,
Joined Jesus in heaven, and walked at his side.


Details | Free verse | |

The Life of a deployed Soldier

A lot of people take freedom, liberty, and even sleep for granted. They don't understand what it takes for them to be afforded those priveledges. They don't know how it feels to be on edge about everything that you hear. They don't know how it feels to be afraid to sleep. The don't know about the thunderous boom sound that makes your heart beat as fast as it can that becomes as normal as a telephone ring. You never know when or where the next boom will be, but you stay on edge hoping that it doesn't come in your direction. You lose sleep worrying about yourself, your friends, if you will ever see your children, if you will ever enjoy the place you call home, if you will go home as normal as you were when you left. Sometimes you find yourself alone with your thoughts and you just think about all the what ifs and find yourself filled with regret. There will be people giving advice, but they will never truly understand what you are going through. I guess we all find our way back to sanity eventually. We just have to learn how to make the crazy things normal. This is the path that we chose. These are the choices we made. We chose to support the country, no matter how big, or how small the role is that we have here. This is what separates us from everyone else. This is the life of a deployed soldier.


Details | Free verse | |

My Battles As A Soldier

Streaking skyward the tracers rip
Into hanging soldiers
Falling about into mayhem
Pulsing through blood-filled ears
Hearing comrades scream
Understanding nothing
This is the war I found…

Hatred filled hardened hunter
Into smashed building
Homes pulverized rubble
Strewn about the decaying mass
The scorched metal burning
Bodies of the fallen men
The miasma of war I forever inhale…

Tigers rolling through billowed flame
Firing upon burnt battlefield blindly
Retreating in terror I leave the voices
Calling as I my boots tamp by arms
Reaching for safety I couldn’t render
Brothers abandoned in the Arnhem snow
These are the ghosts of war who haunt me….

Battle’s percussion on the horizon distant
I fade through the fields upon the Rhein
Farmhouses glow a midnight path
Walking to the beat of gun fire echoes
Off the walls of a shelter a little boy sits
Unafraid of the man feeding him chocolate
In the crater of a bomb…

This flash of hope my salvation from war.


Details | Rhyme | |

The Injured soldier

He fell, fell to the ground
At the gunshot that created such a sound
Nobody took notice of the injured soldier
He was left there lying as the war grew thicker.

He screamed from the pain growing in his shoulder
Nobody realized the pain he would suffer
Trampling feet and screams grew monotonous
The injured soldier tried to ignore the pain that was so venomous.

He made a decision for himself
If he was to survive he'd have to help himself
Nobody was going to come to his aid
Not when each one was looking out for their own head.

He winced in pain as he got to his feet
He wouldn't give up now, not when he still had an army to beat
His shoulder cried out to him in vain
He had already chose to ignore the pain.

He took his rifle up
He adjusted his helmet and refused to give up
He kept fighting till the war was over
Each soldier fighting for their country, their home and their lover.

When the war was done and the battle was won
Every single soldier put down their gun
the injured soldier's shoulder still bleeding
now blinded him with pain and made him lose all feeling.

This time they gave him attention
This time he was treated to friendly affection
He wondered what would have happened if had given up that night
Would they have still won after all that fight?

But he was glad he hadn't for he would have been seen
As a pitiful injured soldier who wasn't keen.

It's the choices we make
And the chances we take
That set us apart
Only when, of course, the decision is made from the heart.


Details | Lyric | |

The Walking Man

The walking man walks with no place to go,
Head tucked down with his eyes lookin' low.
We gotta reach out 
We gotta hold his hand
We gotta reach out 
To the walking man


He's seen it all, lived the wars out there.
Now he's blowing around like a leaf in the air.
We gotta reach out 
We gotta hold his hand
We gotta reach out 
To the walking man


Walking man don't mean no harm he don't mean to lie.  
He's just one careless face from a way to die, a way to fly, to say goodbye…..


So it's you and me and the walking man makes three;
Such a better number to be.


He's tired and warn like a piece of coal,
But he could light the city with the light in his soul.
We gotta reach out 
We gotta hold his hand
We gotta reach out 
To the walking man


Walking man don't mean no harm he don't mean to lie.  
He's just one careless face from a way to die, a way to fly, to say goodbye…..


Because it's you an me and the walking man makes three;
Such a better number to be
©2013C.LBaker


Details | Free verse | |

If Old Men Fought

An old man looking out his door,
gaze fixed on a distant shore,
reminiscing to a time, not of happiness,
or, the prospect of a bright future,
to when he was sick to his very core,
to when as a youth, he went to war

A time before infallibility had meaning,
patriotism and bravado the craze,
the future was still unknown,
vigor for life at its all time high,
a time for romance, partying, buying,
no thought of pain, deformity, dying

Too young to understand or question,
ship to foreign shore, medals abound,
will impress the girls next time in town,
sacrifice not temporary,
forever more,
a legacy etched into a wall, few will remember,
flesh shredded, burned, torn,
families mourn

A time, when he willingly went to war,
will happen no more,
all lost in youth, now unrelenting,
no blind obedience,
minimal risk,
long life, his number one ambition

As he turns back from the door,
he thinks of the youth,
here now, soon no more,
lessons never learned,
the call to war,
to common the roar,
complacency the mood,
another generation removed

The old man agonizes
over what was originally not known,
war is preventable,
life too precious to waste,
the solution simple,
his vision, maybe too late

Send old men to the front to fight,
arthritis, heart disease, poor eyesight,
let the youth enjoy their life,
his near over, its only right

Send old men, to the front, to fight
ask them to give up their life,
patriotism and bravado, still alive,
will and desire would not last the night,
old men do not rush to death in their twilight,
failure inevitable, the old man smiles,
knows he's right

Wars not possible,
if old men, are sent to fight


Details | Ballad | |

TO EVERY SOLDIER THAT THEIR IS

One of the happiest days,
Is  bringing our soldiers home alive,
To where they can be seen,
By their families once again,
To show them we love them,
And care about them,
In the ways we should,
Cause they gave up their time,
And their lives for this country,
For our freedoms we often take for granted,
To protect us from the domestic evils of today,
Whether we see them or not,
We should praise them all,
For all that they have done,
Including those who have fallen,
And can Not walk back through the gates of home,
For they have fallen and given more for this country,
And sacrificed more than we pay attention too,
To save us all for our freedoms,
Which our country will often forget,
With time the fallen one's,
Because we often pay attention to those,
Who are here in front of us and can fight,
One day at a time,
Which is the wrong way to be,
Cause all soldiers are made the same,
And should never be forgotten in anyway,
Day after day cause we have what we have,
To remind us all of all who have sacrificed their lives,
For the freedoms we have to keep us safe,
Each and everyday!


Details | Rhyme | |

An Amulet of Peace

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
An AR16 rifle in my hands….
Seemed like such a paradox,
In the paddies and jungles of Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
A man’s life was in my hands….
That life was not only mine,
While trying to survive in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
Hoping for guidance by God’s hand….
Ignore our sin, keep us alive and safe,
While fighting in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
My duffel bag in my hand….
After 13 months, I was going home,
No more to fight in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace hung ‘round my neck,
An Honorable Discharge in my hand….
Only to be spat upon, called ‘baby killer’,
By ‘peaceniks’ against the war in Vietnam.

An amulet of peace no longer hung ‘round my neck,
The challenge of a new life was at hand….
Found love, happiness and some success,
And tried not to think of Vietnam.

Again, that same amulet of peace hangs ‘round my neck;
And I hope my friends all understand….
I want our courageous young men and women
Out of Iraq and Afghanistan.


Details | Rhyme | |

4 - Messenger from the Dead

Alas there is no more confusion,
finally found my last conclusion.
Expect me as if Jesus will return,
from a ghost to a realm of concern.

Your dreams are portals like doors,
welcoming spirits into hasten wars.
Leaving the thoughts without trust,
keeping your fears in much disgust.

And though you sought no consequence,
deeds that confirm a wicked malevolence.
Awaiting in your nightmare of screams,
enjoy what is left amongst your dreams.


Details | Couplet | |

A soldier's friend

Slowly breathing with a steady beat
Boots are crunching you feel the heat

You inch on closer, looking around
Watching your friends make not a sound

You have been told to kill this man
A threat he is to freedoms plan

Hold up your rifle, take careful aim
Let go of the guilt your not to blame

Orders you follow a good soldier you are
Try not to think the size of the scar

That this order will bring deep in your soul
We raise the flag on top of this soldier's hole

I will give support, I will lend my hand
So you can brother, continue to stand

To fight for the freedoms of people everywhere 
Down your rifle I, with you, shall stare


Details | Lyric | |

To young to die

Too young to die


They take a boy, too young to shave
Who has never lived his life
While his mates are chasing girls
They fill his life with strife
They send him off to a brand new war
Over some damned fools Ideal
I don’t understand their wars
And I guess I never will


The folk who like to run the show
Or most of them at least
Have never even been to war
They’ve never felt the beast
As he rips right into one’ intestines
That hollow hole of fear!
Each leader should be sent to war
Then the picture might grow clear


Then when they send young boys to war
They’ll see the whole damned show
The weight of endless terror
 And then maybe they’ll know
What it’s like as a fine young man
To be sent out there to die
He might then know, how a mother feels
When she’s lost her little guy.

1 August 2013 @ 1443hrs.


Details | Free verse | |

a welcome home: part I

as the hypocrite talking head
seeking re-election in 2012
tells us all that this empire (which continues to wield its
sledge hammer upon the world)
this “land of the free”
(who demands that all others follow in its 
dirty
&
bloody
footsteps),
is one which “unlike the old empires,”
does not force its will upon the people of this planet
“for territory or resources,”
a soldier watching
shoves their finger down their throat
forcing themselves to vomit up the 
utterly visceral disgust
which accompanies the knowledge that
s/he has taken part in making Iraq
american.

the soldier is coming home to a country
whose chose the spending of money on
bashing Afghanistan & Iraq 
to be more important than providing employment,
universal healthcare,
affordable housing or
a decent education system
to its own citizens---
instead we have taken pleasure in killing those abroad
so that they will be forced to be like us---
so that one day they can have
skyrocketing unemployment,
no health care,
no affordable housing or
a decent education system 
either
(that is, if they don’t already reside in such a state as a 
product of our entrance & extraction of all their
resources for use within our borders).


Details | Haiku | |

Blink

A moment of rest,
Refreshing the eyes and brain
From life commercials


Details | Haiku | |

What People Were and What People Are

People were
Many things.
Strange or not

People were
Different and
Odd and fun.

People were
Monsters but…
That’s not all

People were
And still are
Strange and odd.

People are
People. For
life is life. 

Yet not.
Not is lies.
Truth seeps from

Every mouth
Lies, lies, lies
Move, move, move

But somehow
Lies prevail.
Lies are life.

Lies are death.
Lies are homes.
Lies are pain.

Lies are truth.
Yet somehow.
Truth prevails.

Truth is life.
Truth is death.
Truth is home.

Truth is pain.
Truth is lie.
Truth is that.

Lies will die.
Lies will cease.
Nevermore.

Truth will live.
Truth will be.
Forever.


Details | Rhyme | |

QUIET SOLDIERS

Brave hearts beat Hidden in silent men Boots hide exhausted feet Yet no complaints tumble with their tears Brave hearts beat Chasing death on foreign soil Targets placed on dusty streets Hollow death parched days on end Brave hearts beat Dodging dead eyed schoolboys' guns Nightmares of red defeat Yet waking to go back again.
V Anderson Throop Nov 2014 ©


Details | Narrative | |

SOLDIERS NIGHTMARE contest waking up from a nightmare

                         VIETNAM VET SOLDIER'S NIGHTMARE

Another dream –
I could not wake –
Escape from what would follow--
Grasping for a secret word, the letters stark and hollow--
I was trapped entangled there,
Just beyond the reach
Of men that could release me
Or a hill that could be breached

Gunfire was a backdrop 
Soft and pungent was its sound
Fell on me like raindrops--strangely harmless on the ground

Smoky gray encased me like a piece of sleeping net
Tunnel faces hidden —easy killing, no regret-- 
Felt terror and the aching for the friends around me cold
Standup guys with stalwart hearts--just did what they were told

Then my cell phone beeped a beep---
A message had come in ....
Now awake I saw your name---
My new day would begin.


Victoria Anderson-Throop
November 25, 2012
waking from a nightmare contest


Details | Rhyme | |

A Soldier's Cry

A soldier’s cry of the kings Bleeding still from his heart Opened by what he brings During the war impart Straightened by the narrow Encased by fear’s early plunge The soldier fight’s with arrows Daring any man to lunge Secretly over his eyes Both corroded by life’s gross All around him the despised Another sight given close A king he will become After they see his true self Never will he be lonesome An image onto oneself Power of this immense mind Common thoughts brought on through He aligned, surely resigned Meandering softly into The offer of knighthood Has been left cast aside So he would be what he should King of the land from inside
Russell Sivey


Details | Verse | |

Little Solider

together with our broken hearts
a little life within our hands
and heavy burdens on our backs
you and i, we used to laugh

together, when the rain would fall
and when it seemed and felt like all
and everything was going wrong
you and i, we used to cry

together, we used to play
and pull the strings of life away
and then back to us again
you and i, we were one

little soldier on the guard
let me stand by you
hold on tightly to my hand
you know my love is true
i will walk you home tonight
dont cry, everything's alright

but life's a cruel and painful game
and things are so quick to change
and it feels so hard and strange
to go on without you

i feel so lone and lost inside
long nights i have cried and cried
please tell me how can i
go on without you

its so hard to believe
you're no longer here by me
and i have tried everything
but i cant go on without you

and yet these days carry on
and before long a year has gone
ill wake up to another dawn
my friend, without you

little soldier on the guard
let me stand by you
hold on tightly to my hand
you know my love is true
and if somehow we come to part
you'll always be within my heart

little soldier, my dear friend
11 years since you've been dead
i watch these seasons come and go
in my memories you live on


Details | Rhyme | |

Suicide Soldier

They sent him to serve without regarding his life
Voting for redemption instead of his kid and wife
He treads within mazes and shadows of a lost city
Those willing to die to save their family dignity
Fighting back against hateful ignorances believed
What anyone will gain is only how it is perceived


Details | Free verse | |

All hail, the misguided soldier, the misguided Hive

All hail,
The brave soldier
Who stands firm
Like the fickle shell of a snail
Before the oncoming foot of titans

All hail,
The brave soldier, 
A ferocious bee
Who strikes his stinger into the enemy
Comforted by fleeting thoughts of heroism
-a safeguarded hive
Thoughts that flit away in the wind
Like windswept Pollen ambushed by desert
-as the bee falls for the cause

All Hail, 
The brave invader
Who fells foe for his country
All hail murderer,
Comforted by a noble cause
Sent out on wings of glory to cut down fanged tigers
Purging threats, safeguarding life
	-the hive
All Hail,
Misguided killer
For all tigers are fanged
All people threats
-All people life

All Hail,
The weary soldier
	-sacrificial lamb
Joined out of a desperate cause
A squalling infant, a taunting belly
And the weary soldier
Gives his sacrifice to the gods of the Hive
And prays for rain.


Details | Rhyme | |

Her Child A Soldier

Her burdened soul, weeps dry tears. 
Longing for the heart of her child. 
A soldier.

Dark treacherous night. 
Hidden plights. 
Sad, saddened life.
Lost again.
Weeping men... Lost sins. 

Forge on, forgiven sights.
And heights.
Quiet stories, unfound glories. 
Oh, the heart of her child.
A soldier.

Dayless sleep, nightless dreams.
Only a man.
Desires arms of peace.
Peace... oh peace, how tragic does it weep.

Hopeful smiles come and pass. 
Again to ravage a life.
Changed.
An invisible cage - holds faith. 
Hope, … anger, … rage, … caged, … at bay.
Visible faces, and unseen places. 
Oh, the truth of her child.
 A soldier.

Her burdened soul, weeps dry tears. 
Longing for the heart of her child... a soldier.


Details | Free verse | |

We Are One Nation

He laid there, warm and happy. Defeated as one, but successful as two.
A bullet hole straight through his chest. Another dark green uniform stained,
By the dark red liquid seeping through the torn fabric.
One hundred and one desperate young soldiers, laid to rest by the tip of his pistol.
A rifle jammed and abandoned just a mile away.
The last puff of smoked tobacco, freely evaporates into the broken spans of oxygen.
Fought for his family, his country, his land and our land.
Breached toward liberty, and founded it. At the tip of another’s Beretta M9…
This is America, America is you. America is he, she, and me. 
I am “The America”.
Open and free, to you, including me. I’ve held my guard, stood stiff and tall.
Fought hard, till this day, to wave “hello”, to the one race “individuals” every single day.
Wave back, or don’t wave at all, I’ll respect you as an American and not a flaw.
United or divided; we are one nation, that stands under religion, we are one nation.
Black, white, tall, or small, whatever it is, WE respect all.
Our flag does and will, stand to protect us all.
WE ARE ONE NATION, FOREVER YOU AND I.


Details | Rhyme | |

We The Lost People

Our government says were incompetent –
our weapons they must take.
The 2nd Amendment no longer applies,
life, liberty and the pursuit happiness
is now at stake.

Our forefathers were merely mistaken –
this Constitution they’ve drafted in vain.
So they tear it apart piece by piece,
as We The People watch with disdain.

Your opinion doesn’t matter here –
Freedom of Speech belongs to them,
to a perverse, corrupted society,
too ignorant to see their condemned.

The Bill of Rights once ever so protected –
the Ten Commandments in every courtroom,
both now are strictly an abomination,
to this Godless Country in doom.

Take heed to their acts of subtle changes –
to their intensive need to change our creed,
People! It’s not about protecting us!
It’s about control, domination and greed!


Details | Rhyme | |

Might these be

Might this be a wonder,
Might this be a sunder,
Might this be the blocker,
Might this be the warder,
Might there be a plunder,
Might it pass the border,
Might there be a dweller,
Might they be lodgers,
Should they be squatters,
Should they be trespassers...

Might they squander,
Might it scatter,
Might this be a sputter,
Might there be a clutter,
Moght there be to many clusters,
Might this be the controller
Mightit get power...?

Might these be handlers,
Might these be forcers,
Might these be the squashers,
Might these be the breakers,
Breaking some of the order...

Might this be a night,
Going to a wretched midnight,
Coming from a raging twilight,
Until these be ended, throughout nighttime,
Later waking from our bedtime,
Maybe dying to see the morning light,
Might this be happening tonight...?

Might there be a knight,
Might there be a fight,
Waiting for a shining might,
Coming from some rainbow's light,
coming slight from the nighttime,
With some waiting for their fly...

Might these fight the ghouls,
Might they get to their goal,
Might this vanish some ghosts,
Whom want all of our souls...

Might this be other things,
Might these be the lives of life,
With some asking, might these be I...?


Details | I do not know? | |

Good Morning, Apocalypse Now : A Tribute to a Vietnam Veteran

Untitled 5
(My Uncle: Good Morning, Apocalypse Now)

My uncle doesn't speak much
about Vietnam or the stuff
he witnessed when he 
was just a boy. See,
he likes to drive the back roads fast 
and honk at random cars that pass.
His friendly gestures always lead to how
he grew up compared to kids now. 

Jumping and racing trains on the tracks
became dodging bullets and carrying his buddy on his back.
The marshes and dirt valleys here
became the forests and trenches of the military frontier. 

Last year, my sister donned his jacket
a fatigued fatigue that hung in his closet. 
In color and memory darkened,
kept out of sight for fear it would harken
the PTSD he's stuggled to avoid. 

He saw his brothers, young like him
to Vietnam succumb
while on American soil
and he promised he would never speak,
for fear his stomach would coil, 
when remembering rice - a dish he no longer enjoys.
And there's no orange on his clothes to remind him of the agent that destroyed.

When he speaks a calm 
"Good morning", I wonder if he's thinking of Vietnam
or if he knows
that I admire his strength and 
bravery and how 
he continually fights against 
the "Apocalypse Now".


Details | Rhyme | |

The American Soldier

We are all the colors a Patriot depicts,
the red’s the blues and whites a mix.
We honor the soldier’s creed till death,
protecting our nation with every breath.

Quitting is not an option you’ll see,
for a soldier’s pride and honor succeeds.
A soldier’s mission will always come first,
hungering for freedom with a thriving thirst.

The American Soldier, our warrior of choice,
will serve their people will a victorious voice.
They are comrades in arms, till the very end,
no one left behind, fellow man they’ll tend.

The American Soldier doesn’t accept defeat,
heroically they’ll fight, in the cold and the heat.
They are the guardians of freedom we forget,
the American Soldier does not identify regret.

Our way of life is because of their strength,
for decades they’ve served at every length.
The American Solder conveys honor and pride;
for fallen soldiers, many tears they have cried.

Honor our troops, for freedom is not free –
it’s the American Soldier whose provided liberty.
Take a moment to praise the dedication and pride,
of the American Soldier that never dies…….


Details | Imagism | |

LIKE A HIRED SOLDIER

who can tell a person is wrong or right?

day-to-day each one is a hired soldier..
fighting in their own battlefield..
not to kill a criminal or a terrorist..
rather a person striving for better life..

who can definitely say one's reason for living?

allow me to say that each one is struggling so..
one reason maybe is to earn a living..
one reason maybe is to gain power..
or this maybe one reason to share God's love...

who can tell hundred percent that such person can do harm?

isn't it, only by giving into chances that you can know one person..?
isn't it, through God's eyes we are all equal despite who we are here on earth..?
isn't it , through genuine acceptance that divisions and differences are broken?
isn't it reaching out is fine but alright?

sad to say that persons judge without knowing..
sad to say persons can conclude without even investigating..
sad to say, persons who are educated will look at others just by their race..
sad to say, persons outcast and demeans another person because of looks..

hired soldiers we maybe everyday..
true to say, we must on guard to others..
we must be vigilant to stay protected..
we must use all resources in us to keep living..

however, must we be hired soldiers to condemn and persecute innocence?

by: olive_eloi
19/10/2013 2:12pm


Details | Sapphic stanza | |

SAPPHO'S SISTERS

SAPPHO'S SISTERS    Song of Ulysess

is this Sappho to whom i speak
the bride of lesbos with the low forbidden voice
who climbs the rocky mountains’ dangerous  peak?

call in the blue daughters of twilight to rejoice
in the bursting spring. 
war weary are my men--- far from familiar arms of home.

she , obliging, twirls her tantalizing songs and lyre--
lights my camping soldiers with the fire
of her bold call-- vibrates them with darkness of unknown desires
but she, unknown to me, orchestrates a horrid tune of tragedy unforeseen.
sirens of her sisters , assisting, yearn--
ablaze in fragrant beauty unmanly to resist--
the lyre of Sappho spins the tune that turns the doom of noble heads 
the most valiant heroes desert their posts-- slaves to lush open arms that hold them ‘til they burn.



Victoria Anderson Throop ©
(rewrite from 2012)




Details | Rhyme | |

Yung Soldier (Pt. I)

She holds her head high,
Never cry.
Hide herself from the world
A mask she controls well
Smile and laugh
She tells herself
Hide the pain and hurt
They'll never understand
Even if you tried to tell your story
Yung soldier 
Yung soldier
No one will ever know
That you've wanted to go AWOL
Or just quit it all
Family could care less
This is all a mess
No outlet, just her and her emotions
But no time to shed a single tear
Because to the world she hasn't a fear
At least that's what she wants them to believe
A mask she designed all to well
She looks at life as a challenge
Alll the things she must balance
Yung soldier
Yung soldier
No one will ever know
That you wanted to go AWOL
Or just quit it all.