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Ballad Soldier Poems | Ballad Poems About Soldier

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

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The sensitive soldier

The sensitive soldier

A boy like him, how could he think?
That a soldier he could be?
He was soft, poetic, sensitive
And yet this lad, did he
Join the army for to fight
To keep his country free
The lad he was adventurous
So he joined up happily.

Then he learned the very hard way
That war is for the strong
There’s no place there for heart and soul
The boy did not belong
All the stuff he saw, it broke him down
And made a mess of him
He had a breakdown, fell apart
His each day felt so grim.

They discharged him, and he became
A kind of nowhere man
He did not fit in anywhere
And now this man called Dan
He lives alone, and writes his stuff
And drinks a lot of beer
Cause what his life is all about
He really is not clear.

30 January 2014 @ 0645hrs.







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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!


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Battle

Is it quiet enough here in your head? The chaos of the mind has subsided to a dull roar. The battle with self has come to a stalemate. Both sides have withdrawn, not in retreat, but in an attempt to resupply.


The rancid smell of past thoughts permeate your senses. Memories are left strewn across the war-zone, their death stark upon your emotions. It is time to recruit new dreams to send into the fight, to become heroes; or be left for dead on the battlefield in your head.


That the battle could be won says nothing of the war in your soul. It is here that the conflict escalates to nuclear proportions. Even though you hold your fingers over the button, your resolve is smashed. You bring those trembling fingers to your face, wipe the tears, and know you have failed again.


Or is it failure when you live to fight another day? A simple foot soldier in the trenches of yesterday never believes they are the future General of tomorrow. Often you live in the present fight, with tunnel vision focused on the enemy surrounding you. It is hell when you realize that the enemy is only you. But your back is against the wall and you are not accustomed to losing.


And the battle rages on, dreams are shattered against the front lines of reality. The masses engulf the weak; will is broken. The once barren plains now run red with the blood of hope. The skies are clouded with the mists of loss and the scent on the air induces the desire to stop breathing forever.


The last sounds you hear are screams. You never realize that the screams are your own.


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My sickness and my healing

My sickness and my healing

When I came back from Vietnam
I was afraid of everything
I really don’t know why this was
Cause, no danger did it bring
To me, my stay in that country
But the poisons that they used
Convinces me that they stuffed my mind
Those powers, our heads abused.

That fear in me was so intense
My mind was filled with dread
I was afraid of being alive
I was afraid of being dead
Sometime I’d freeze so totally
Like I was paralyzed.
I went to so much counseling
So many tears I cried.

And then one day I searched the net
And I found this little site
The site they call it ‘just one look’
And they did do me right
It took four years, but now I’m sane
I have no fear at all
And I have no anxiety
I’m no more a crazy fool.

5 September 2013 @ 1345hrs


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The Mojo Trick

The Mojo Trick
Loch David Crane
June 1979

Sweat-sticky and hot! The P. I. is not
	a comfortable place to be;
but sit here and perspire (as though by the fire)
	and I'll tell a tale to thee.

I was coming alive in a Philippine dive
	after Mojo and San Miguels;
 the raging fire in my stomach went higher
	but my sea legs rode out the swells.

I began with a pitcher of Mojo that hit
	a spot in my appetite;
and glass after glass I drank till the last
	and soon was feeling just right.	

Then a hostess sat down in a low-cut gown
	and asked "I sit with you tonight?"
And I nodded OK in a nonchalant way
	so she seated herself on my right.

Now the hostesses here are all drink San Miguel beer
	And the same is served all around;
but it don't show much class to charge five times' a 	glass
when serving's the same size per round.
So you pay a dear price to drink beer over ice
	which is how it is served in P.I.;
if you buy a girl beer when she says "I work here,"
	then she knows you're a Big Spender guy.

So I looked at this girl and my mind began to whirl
	and the Mojo played a trick.
Her face was so funny – a nose like a bunny –
	I wouldn't let her flick my Bic!

I won’t call her ugly, but with that funny mug she'd
	make customers run and hide;
you could send that girl in to a crowded room; then
	watch as horrified man stepped outside.

So as I drank my beer with a grin ear  to ear
	I said "My name is Billy, I think."
She was hardly demure; she said "My name is La Tour.
	I love you no lie.  Buy me drink."

Well I should have said "no," and let the chick go
	but I wasn't alone in the place;
and the thought of all night with this dog was a fright
	though her body was nice – but that face!

I thought "just one more brew,” cause I'd only had two,
	and I said that I'd buy her a drink.
Then she gave me a grin with her toothless brown chin
	and my self image started to sink.

But because I was shy (I'm just that sort of guy)
	I just couldn't tell her to leave;
so I stared at the band and I drummed with my hand
	and I brushed off the lint from my sleeve.

Well the music was fine; but the bar girl's next line
	was to say "Are you married, young man?"
And I saw my way out and lied with a pout –
	told her I had a wife in Japan.

So she finished her beer, and was soon gone from here,
and I ordered two beers to celebrate;
I was lucky, I thought, not to get caught
	between her and a magistrate.

For the Philippine girls wear long dresses and curls
	and use perfume and makeup for baits;
for to marry a guy, seaman or G.I.,
	means a free trip back to the States.

Then a man from the crew asked me "What's wrong with 	you?
	Why did you let that girl go?"
And I told him her face was scare spots off an ace
	but he looked back at me and said "No."

I called for "beer 12" and started to delve
	into my pocket for money;
my friend said "I'll buy," and his cash didn't lie,
	and "Mind if I sit with your honey?"
I said "you can do just what you want to do,"
	and I said that I couldn’t look at her;	
but he thought she was cute, had a nice bod to boot,
	so I nodded to go ahead after.

But beer thirteen made my vision grow keen,
	and I saw what a prize I had missed;
"I have drunk too much brew!   She was beautiful, too."
	as I saw him voluptuously kissed.

I thought "How could this be? She said she loved me! "
	My hand shook; my ice cubes went clink.
I heard her say to him "My name is Tuptim.
	I love you no lie.  By me drink."

So I smiled. I was glad; I was no longer mad
	'cause the Mojo had clouded my eyes;
I realized then she was after my friend, 
	and I hoped he was quick with his lies.

So it's "sailor beware!" In Olongopo there;
	where the girls fish for guys in the bars;
and though I often roam, I always come home,
	– single! Thanking my lucky stars.

– By the Phantom of the O2 level

(O1 and O2 are Officer’s and Civilians’ quarters on the USS Kitty Hawk; I taught English aboard several ships at sea, in the Program Afloat for College Education.)


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OLD SOLDIER

Greenslopes Greenslopes Army hospital was , For the returned soldiers cos, They needed repatriation, For war causes sickness of, BEWARE Bronco-Don was there again, Suffering trauma and the pain, Till a scan was sought because, THEY Put his head in a vice like grip, Said it wouldn’t hurt a bit Pumped in dye, bad hurt, Tom-Twit, But Johnson didn’t cry, THEY Took his head out of the stocks, HE Grabbed the specialist by his frock, Strangled him right to the floor, “you said it wouldn’t hurt for sure?” near death came as a shock, for doctor macintosh, bad Johnson evermore, his bloody lot, the score, SOMETIMES THE BLOOD GETS HOT, You bastards know whaffor…. Don Johnson


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Poppies of Remembrance

Time, to buy our poppies
To remember once again
remember those who died for us
And those who were just maimed
We must also remember
Those, who lost their loved ones
Mothers, sister’s, daughters
Fathers, brothers, son's
What a lot of us can't imagine
What torment that must be
But they all gave their lives for us
To make our country free
In one hundred years
Two wars some endured
lost fathers in the 1st, sons in the last
This fighting is absurd
And still we send our menfolk
To fight the wars abroad
 Please end this madness
I beg thee dear lord...

We think we're in recession
But do we  really know
The hardships that our grandparents
Suffered against the foe
Bombed out of house and home
Nowhere else to go
Then all neighbours rallied round
To help they were not slow
Rationing came about
For food, for clothes, for fuel
From just scrag ends of meat
Made appetizing gruel
Women took over men’s jobs
In factories, farms and such
Blackouts, sirens, shelters
Hardship there was much 
Army, air force and navy
Were not the only ones
But fire-fighters, nurses, doctors
Air raid wardens, everyone
They all played some part
In winning against the foe
Many lost their lives
A dreadful way to go
Some might say its better
To die instantly my friends
For many, many suffered
In agony till the end
We can’t possibly imagine
What it's like there at the front
Many months of fighting
With no end in sight
In trenches, 
Your comrades all about you lying
Water logged and stinking,
Lying, crying, dying.
So please stand in silence
Remember, remember them 
They fought for our freedom
Our women and our men


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Solider's Change

He marched bravely into battle 
At least a thousand times
But found no way to conquer 
The battles in his mind

Always walking down that lonely road alone
Followed by the shadows of all he’d seen and done
With a fortress built around his heart
That no man could tear down

Isaiah 43:18-19 (NLT)
“But forget all that—it is nothing compared to what I am going to do.
For I am about to do something new.
See, I have already begun! Do you not see it?
I will make a pathway through the wilderness.
I will create rivers in the dry wasteland."

God tears down walls with trumpets
And the sound of His voice
God let him hear Him calling
With a whisper changed his heart

Ephesians 6:11-17 ESV
"Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil. For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. Therefore take up the whole armor of God, that you may be able to withstand in the evil day, and having done all, to stand firm. Stand therefore, having fastened on the belt of truth, and having put on the breastplate of righteousness, and, as shoes for your feet, having put on the readiness given by the gospel of peace. ..."

GOD MADE HIM
A soldier of Christ
From a solider of men
With the Lamb and the Lion
Forged him into one
He brought him from darkness
And made him a light
Where others find refuge
And the Gospel of Jesus Christ


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Jock

Jock.

Now Jock he was a friend of mine
In those good old army days
When teenage boys were herded in
And made to change their ways
He told me one fine summer’s day
With a big blue sky above
"I'm glad that I'm a soldier boy
This army life I love".

They shipped him off to good old Nam
Placed a rifle in his hands
And said "now you're a soldier boy
I hope you'll understand
We're fighting those old Vietcong
You've got to see us right
You don't know what it's all about!!!
Nor us, just go and fight"

Poor Jock ain't with us any more
God bless his poor old mum
Our lad he was a forward scout
No use his bloody gun
As the flying metal put him down
Our jock the hero died
As politicians wined and dined
So many tears were cried.


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"Valley of lost hope"

Dead men lying on the bottom of the grave
wondering when savior comes
Is he going to be saved
maybe you're a sinner into your alternate life
maybe you're a joker,maybe you deserve to die

They were crying when their sons left
god is wearing black
he's gone so far to find no hope 
he's never coming back...

They were crying when their sons left 
all young men must go
he's come so far to find the truth
he's never going home

Young men standing at the tops of their graves
wondering when jesus comes 
are they gonna be saved

Cruelty to the loser,Bishop tells the King
maybe you're a mourner,or just deserve to die
they were crying when their sons left
god is wearing black
he's gone so far to find no hope
he's never coming back

They were crying when their sons left 
all young men must go
he's come so far to find no truth
he's never going home

Welcome to the soldier side
where there's no one here but me
people all grow up to die
there is no one here but me

Welcome to the soldier side
sons come here to die
people on the soldiers side ....
come here,but be willing to die....


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Young Soldier

I was a boy not quit seventeen,
I enlisted when I was sixteen…

Wanting to serve my country…

I had no family it was just 
my sister and me…

My mother had died, when
 I was very young, new family
 adopted me…

My sister was also adopted,
 by another family…

As you can see, it was just
 my sister and me…

It wasn’t long before my adopted
 family, first my new father died 
then my new mother, followed him…

She missed him so much, for
 she had a broken heart,
 that wouldn’t mend …

I went to war as a little boy,
 came home a man…

As you see I was just sixteen…

The time was at “Chaute Thierry”,
doing world war one…

As a young man I thought we won… 

Standing behind a cannon as 
it was fired, shell casing discharging 
from the breach, sent hot shrapnel 
and pain into my foot… 

Sent me to hospital where I
 laid in pain, until they treated me, 
sent me home, with crippled foot, 
shrapnel of imbedded in my foot, 
as well as the pain in my foot…

I’ve never been able NOT to work,
 even though I have shrapnel
 in my foot, walk with a limp, and 
have pain in my foot everyday…

Now you can see, that it didn’t
keep me from work…

Though I was wounded during
 war, no purple heart was given
 this boy a young soldier…

Wasn’t until my son wrote our
 Congressman, explaining what had
 happen, and what hadn’t been done…

Took over fifty years, but I got my
 purple heart, thanks to my son for 
what he done…

I would have gone to my grave,
 for I wouldn’t have said anything,
 as I hadn’t for years, for I thought it
 was their job, to recognize what I
 had done…

My family was proud, of what I’d
done, but I feel, that they were more 
proud of me now…

Only told my story a few times,
 mostly to a few close friends, and my
 children, for it was part of history…

Now you know my story, the young 
soldier, just boy…

By Sandra L. Hoban
©2006

This poem was written and dedicated to my father who served as an infantry soldier during World War I. This is also dedicated to all those who have served our country and was wounded or lost there life while serving, not just World War I but all wars, conflicts and military police actions.


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The Battlefront Soldier

Tall and strong;
Always pushing on.
Never once looking back,
Straight up and stiff back.
My heart was and is yours,
But you turned me down and sent me away.
You might be military, baby,
But I don’t care.
Hold me and love me, but leave my heart there.
I want you to be mine, but distance is your barricade with which you hide.
I fear you’ll hide behind it forever,
With or without my dreams.
I see you walking away or standing on enemy lines,
Looking back onto my side of the fence and wondering to cross it or not.
You have your gun, you have your uniform, and you have your armor. 
You doubt me because of what happens with others, and you ignore the others who have succeeded.
Why not give me a chance?
Let me show you I can be who you want.
Ignore just letting me be a distance away. 
Please; please I beg you; don’t walk away and leave me as I am. 


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Ballad For The Emerald Soldier

A soldier lain in pools of blood,
A soldier of no name,
A dying soul face down in mud,
His mercy is to blame.

Now booming blows are deep below
The Emerald River
In visceral form and bellows
Travelling in shivers

Across the vibrating granite.
Your heart will stop, dear friend,
And you shall see no holy light,
Just darkness with no end.

Now sleep, poor soldier, sleep softly again,
For I shall weep for you and the sins of Man.


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An American Soldier

you gave me light, you gave me life in the American eyes, I represent my colors, i never swallow my pride, you gave me strength and a mind to remember myself, if i fight for my country, will i burn in hell, i have my gun in my holster, it will never be over, cause in the eyes of my family, i will remain a soldier, iam strong iam willing, thoughtful, and forgiving, it hurts to see your face so i use my feelings for healing, heal my woons along with my soul, i live in a world of enemies, gunshots, and terrorists that explode, i live in dream of happiness, and a family that knows ill be coming home, until then i will hide underground, ready for war in the dirt below, this is my life and the defeat i have chosen, i will keep your love in a heart that remains broken, and long lost memories that have been stolen, in my life this pattern of living has caused an explosion, TO AN AMERICAN SOLDIER RESPECT IS WHAT IT MEANS,  
 TO AN AMERICAN FAMILY WITH A SON WITH AN AMERICAN DREAM.