Audra Larkin Poet Rhyme

Notes About The Poem

Soldiers are often spoken of in terms of bravery, strength, and sacrifice. We picture uniforms, medals, and moments of heroism frozen in time. Yet beyond what we see lies a quieter, heavier reality one that cannot be measured by victories or marked by visible scars. This poem is not about war as a spectacle, but about its aftermath: the invisible battles that continue long after the fighting ends.

I Met a Soldier Once captures a brief encounter that reveals how deeply war can follow a person home. Through subtle gestures, restrained words, and unspoken pain, the poem gives voice to the internal struggles many soldiers carry alone. It reminds us that some wars are not fought on distant fields, but within the mind and heart, where memories linger and silence speaks louder than words.

This poem asks readers to slow down, to listen more closely, and to see soldiers not only as heroes, but as human beings shaped by experiences we may never fully understand. It is a call for empathy, awareness, and compassion and offers an invitation to recognize that courage does not always roar, and that survival itself can be the hardest battle of all.

I Met a Soldier Once

I met a soldier once.
His eyes saw many storms.
Wars beyond a battlefield.
His body heavy hung.

He smiled he tried.
A little haste.
His teeth were gritted.
Hands on his waist.

And all the while.
He gently paced.
I knew he hid the battle haze.

He softly spoke in heavy tones.
But he never once relayed the woes.
Just fight the fight that he found.
In himself, not on the battleground.

He fought not just in the battlefields.
Not just with a gun.
A flag upon his shoulder.
And his jacket slightly slung.

He spoke of all the laughter.
Relayed all that he missed.
Said he “I do it all again”
And do so without haste.

And when he then became quite still.
I heard his silent screams.
And in that very moment.
I knew the battle raged.

He bore no wounds to see at all.
No scars or stitches did he own.
But when he walked along the way.
His heavy steps, deafening sounds.

He turned and smiled and said to me.
Now I’m homeward bound.
I hope we meet again someday.
And maybe share some words.

Then he turned and walked away.
His head was slightly hung.
And just for a minute.
I saw the weight come on.

Now he’s gone and no bugles played.
No medals dangled, 0r music played.
Just echoes of his war within.
Where too many soldiers.
Have found their end.

So, when next you meet a soldier.
View them more than brave or strong.
Theres battles fought behind their eyes.
That have raged a whole life long.

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Tom Cunningham January 3, 2026 at 4:52 AM It doesn’t surprise me that many turn to alcohol or drugs to try and mask the horrors that they witness on the battlefield. Thankfully times have changed and there’s help out there, PTSD is a real condition. Welcome to poetry soup. Tom

Joseph P. DiMino December 31, 2025 at 4:12 AM Even when unspoken, the horrors of war never leave one who has seen them. Let us pray for peace in this very divided world. Your poem is enlightening and poignant. Well done.