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Patriotic Sad Poems | Sad Poems About Patriotic

These Patriotic Sad poems are examples of Sad poems about Patriotic. These are the best examples of Patriotic Sad poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

Details | Epitaph |

The Day the Eagle Cried

We will never forget exactly where we were, 
	We will never forget exactly what we were doing, 
		We could never forget the loss we felt – 9/11/01.

We saw the birth of amazing heroes,
	We mourned with the grief of thousands,
		We marveled at the strength of the human spirit.

It was the day we held our children more closely,
	It was the day the American Family was reborn,
		And the day we became “One Nation, Under God.”

We heard those resounding words, “A plane hit the tower”,
	We watched in disbelief as the second tower fell to earth,
		And we heard the most heroic of words, “Let’s Roll!”

There were so many lessons that we learned,
	There are so many memories to be held dear,
		There was “Old Glory” – still standing to give us hope.

Firemen, Policemen, Clergy and Civilians-
	Were taken from us in a few fleeting moments,
		We saw a flight of angels, and an Eagle cry.

We became the strongest and most formidable of enemies,
	The most united in spirit and purpose in decades,
		We were filled with renewed honor and pride.

Yes, we lost the very innocence of our being,
	We lost the complacency of everyday routine,
		But yet we gained so much more.

For now we know the true meaning of so many, many words –
	“Indivisible”, “In God We Trust”, “United We Stand”
    		and the most important of all -
			“Greater Love Hath No Man Than This”…


Details | Ode |

Love is a Sacrifice

You have my soul, but you have your fate Whatever your words, I’m willing to take You have my word; I’ll give you my breath It’s like a chain that would never be break You are my love with all my heart, I’ll fight for you with all my might. And in the way, you admire your goals, You hold my hands, but not so close. As you go to your chosen path, I’ll accept the fact that we will be apart. In the dark side, I leave behind Within my faith, that you’ll arise Please don’t look back, coz I’m fighting still I’m hurting so much! Don’t want to have you near I accept my fate for what it does, I’m bleeding so much, do you know for whom it was? You reach your goals, as you want to have, Would you remind the man that gave what he had? As you reach the stars, and be the one Be a sun that shines its own. After the rain, the rainbow comes, Like dark in the moon, when the light flash A glimpse from you at least a short For then I knew my pain is worth.


Details | Epitaph |

John F Kennedy

John F. Kennedy 1917-1963 The great 35th president of US It wasn't really a success He tried to stop the missile bases There were lot of angry faces When there was about to be a war Peace was what he asked for Texas was the place he was shot Later, the criminal was caught He didn't survive the pain His people cried like the rain


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 | Ballade |

Vets story

Vietnam Vets Story

Have you heard the story
Of those bold courageous men
Who served their country tall and proud
As they fought in Vietnam.
They done their country proud and all
And showed how soldiers fought
But now their lives aren’t worth a damns 
Their nerves all tense and taut.

They sprayed their poisons on trees
Endangered all these men
And fed them drugs not tested yet
They didn’t care back then!
They wanted just to win a war
A war pointless and mad
And many now do suffer so
Their lives all sour and sad.

And now these men just live their lives
All down with no self value
{Their bodies torn their minds all twisted
Marriages broken too!}
They have to fight with all their might
To get fair compensation!!!!
What price to risk one’s soul and life
In defence of one‘s good nation.


Details | Sonnet |

TRESPASSERS SHOULD BE SHOT

TRESPASSERS SHOULD BE SHOT
Your own computer, where they should not go,
'tis your own place, your Heaven or your Hell
All sacred are the words they should not know,
Nor spy upon, some things you'd never tell.

The scum of life know secrets to the lock,
They play among your bits, yes ev'ry byte.
And troubled nights, not sleeping like a rock
You'll laugh it off, as just imagined plight.

But know you well, conspiracies they thrive,
from cyberspace, they bring you false alarm,
Intimidation keeps their cause alive
Their snooping's meant to bring you naught but harm.

If you've uneasy feeling someone's there
Then know you well, they're with us ev'rywhere.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Details | I do not know? |

Chris Kyle the Great Sniper

Before you read this poem, I would like to invite you in reading about the great American sniper hero. I am also dedicating this to the fallen sniper because he is a true Patriotic Hero. Thank you.

Chris Kyle was and still is loved by many, this to be true I say
I always believe him to be, a great sniper to this undying day.
Why must things happen to people, that are always so kind
Life would be better keeping some, alive alongside mankind.

Why don’t I tell you a story, about this very kind honest fellow
He was and is an U.S. Navy Seal, but along that chill and mellow.
The most lethal sniper known of, in American military history
With a very high percentage confirmed kills, quite the victory.

At the young age of eight, his father taught him how to shoot
A great father teaching a son, instead of giving him the boot.
A bronco rider for the rodeo, sadly gave it up for a serious injury
It was to his arm although he still lived, with very great dignity.

Being a great sniper had an effect, putting souls to their bed
Eventually somewhat famous, an increasing bounty upon his head.
Undoubtedly dubbed the “Devil of Ramadi”, by non-other than Iraqi
An increasing bounty shot twice, but his body and will still intact.

After a while serving his country, he retired heading home graciously
Taking back some long spent  time, spending it with his family.
Chris Kyle a loved husband, a friend to many and a beloved son
His homeland now saddened, for America has lost a patriotic one.

A great warrior indeed, in my opinion our greatest honorable hero
He put his life on the line, instead of becoming the common zero.
The greatest treasure of all, came from within himself to prove
That all humans aren’t wrongful, but that we all can improve.


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".