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Best Good Soldier Poems | Poetry

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The Best Good Soldier Poems

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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

Copyright © Jordan Dickinson | Year Posted 2012

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How to Be A Good Soldier: In the Army of The Lord

one of the world's greatest men was an apostle named Paul
and when he when he wrote this text he was behind prison walls
he had been arrested for preaching God's Holy Word
now Isn't  that the craziest thing that you have ever heard
Paul was on death row, his natural life was about to end
so he began writing these words with an anointed pen

one day in his cell, he observed some soldiers going through their motions
so he penned these words about  spiritual discipline and spiritual devotion
he wrote to his son Timothy about the realities of Christian warfare
to inform him that in order to walk like Christ you must be bold and be prepared
to live godly in Christ you will suffer some persecution
just stay prayerful for the Holy Spirit will give you spiritual infusion

ONE- to be a good soldier, you must stay strong and endure hard times
to serve in God's army remain focused and stay in line
for It won't be easy to do God's work staying on the right path
just stand tall and persevere in your mission 
and remember the love for you Jesus has

TWO- to be a good soldier, you must believe in the cause
for God's Kingdom is at stake, there's no time to stop and pause

THREE- to be a good soldier, you must follow the chain of command
It's not only about  you, It's about God's master plan

FOUR-  to be a good soldier, you must follow orders and learn to obey
submit your will and soul to God and do whatever He says

FIVE- to be a good soldier, you must always know your place
make sure you're standing in it to receive God's mercy and grace

SIX- to be a good soldier, you must know how to use your weapon right
carry the Sword of the Spirit It's loaded with God's insights

SEVEN- to be a good soldier, stay at your post until you're relieved
for the enemy will try to sneak in, wherever he can plant a seed

on the spiritual battlefield you will the wounded and those in despair
hold to your position for God's angels will always be near
so endure the hard times for there will be plenty more
believe in the cause, that's what you're fighting for
follow the appropriate chain of command
follow orders and put all in God's hands
know your place in the ministry and where you belong
know how to handle your weapons, remain focused and stay strong
and last but not least, never leave your post
until you are properly relieved by the Spirit of The Holy Ghost


Copyright © louise nelson | Year Posted 2007

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An allegory of my life

7 Aug 08 1:00 PM 

I once thought I had awaken from a dream.
I bolted upright and let out scream!  
I ran from my bed and out the front door jumped into my boat and grabbed for the oars.  
I rowed down the street and took a left on main and lost one oar cause it stuck in a drain.  
But I kept on rowing as hard as I could round in a circle like a good soldier should.  
I never gave up and I didn’t quit, until my last oar in two halves it split. 

Then I really woke up and realized the dream and pondered all day just what it 
might mean.  
In life we hurry and worry so much, we don’t even take time to finish our lunch.  
I’ve got to do this I’ve got to do that, take care of the dogs take care of the cats.  
I’ve got to go here I’ve got to go there.  
I know my keys are here hiding somewhere.  
Around and around where I’m going I don’t know.  
I’ve worked  and worked and have so little to show. 
But then my oar broke and I finally stopped and out of that boat I came with a hop! 

My head has quit spinning and now I can see, 
My purpose my treasures. . . . are God and my family

Copyright © Bobb Marly | Year Posted 2011

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He sees them wandering
in streets filled with debris:
they are dirty and lean,
and don't speak a word;
many horrible things they have seen,
many screams they have heard
and staring at the soldier trotting...
they seem to say, " Help us, please! "

Their pitiful appearance and those tearful eyes that make
his frozen soldier's heart thaw like ice
that  melts when winter leaves and Nature awaits an early spring;
he looks at them and forgets the enemy's faces
when his conscience numbed and the only thought was,
" Kill or be killed! It's all about survival, not hate...
tomorrow one of these children could be my own when the unpredictable dice
turns and the invader takes over my devastated land and freedom will not ring. "

And while the rest of the soldiers search for the little survivors,
either alive or dead...desperately clinging to their mothers' breasts,
the rookie soldier stops along the bombarded road that smells of death
and picks up the little girl who is screaming and is running out of breath, 
" Hang on, beautiful girl, I am a good soldier...don't be afraid of me;
you are a lucky child: I'll fix your wound and find your mom whenever she may be. "

Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2013

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Memories Of The White Republic

I remember my candles in the night
My eyes heavy but weightless like light
The thought of being a corper my right

A pound on my head boom boom
The thud of boots and whistle boomerang
Shrill cries like a community gone agog
Soldiers and man o wars on the work

Kaaki and boots stroll under the wilderness 
As I drench myself in the reflection of morning parade
Then I wake up to the reality of being a soldier, even though my tired feet struggle for survival in the hands of code 1 and code 2
Like a wrestler contesting the royal rumble

I have been stressed, squeezed like a rug left on the floor to rumple
My enduring and persevering heart whispers
The sweet chants of one day we will go
Yes indeed we will go, not as we were but as gallant soldiers of the NYSC

I swim in the pool of events
Tiring as it is, I must make it
This is the reality, I have always wanted

Lectures were made on white and black
Skills were taught on the block
Food and love shared on the clock
Uncertainty looms in the horizon
When the bugle of farewell blows on the 26th of March to another hurdle
On which side of Cross River will I march
Good soldier that I am
I must go
Kopas we we we
Kopas wa wa wa

What faith befalls you on Tuesday 
Take it with wa wa wa
This is the reality we have always wanted
Our dream and long desired expectation
Have finally unfolded into its oblivion of extinction
Let us awaken ourselves to the reality of serving our fatherland
Author: Ginikachi Nnadozie Obah

Copyright © Ginikachi Obah | Year Posted 2017

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So it goes-homeward bound

The surf, ferocious in the distance
white caps and roller coaster waves
nose-dives into the shore
sand rearranged; sea life takes cover-
the hermit crab –boroughs;
the gulls greedy, hungry - grab
remnants of human litter- their meal for the day-
and flee.

Homeward bound.

torrents  or drizzle feed flora, fauna, man
all given a pardon: one more day to live. 
Mother Nature in a cathartic mood sends
the wind, chaotic, blasted, twisted;
or patronizing - to clean and clear.
Then returns the earth to serenity 
and life.

Homeward bound.

Geese choreographed in flight
synchronized to fly as one
north to south in the winter
and intuitively reverse when 
it’s time to breed and feed.

Homeward bound.

Lovers- finish
the evening’s repartee with a 
nightcap of Bailey’s or Port
conjoined as they coo their way.

Homeward bound.

The warrior-committed to peace-
combative, defensive, protective, vigilant,
conflicted- kill or be killed.
The good soldier returns-decorated for bravery- in the box
covered in the coveted colors of the employer.
Some maimed –without limbs, eyes, mind.
The whole- return- many missing-their soul.

Homeward bound. 

The dying- incontinent, incoherent, incompetent, in pain
wishes for a reprieve.  Moans. 
More morphine.
The death rattle gurgling through lungs 
ravaged but determined
to discharge the last hooray of life.

Then, so it goes, homeward bound.

Kathy Tauber-2015

Copyright © kathy tauber | Year Posted 2015

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Good Soldier Of The Lord

G-ood soldier of the Lord, 
E-nemy's worst nightmare; 
R-eady to defend the faith, 
S-trong during vile weather. 
O-ctober thirteenth morn, comes the brave warrior; 
N-either arm will weaken in fulfilling his fervor. 

N-ot for a time will he quit, 
O-bliterating the evil deed; 
N-either eye will turn blind 
A-t the chosen ones' need. 
T-otal trust in the Father and in the double-edged sword; 
O-ne true obedient servant is a good soldier of the Lord.

Copyright © Bernard F. Asuncion | Year Posted 2017

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A million soldiers soaked in red
as a million more are laid to rest
Hold onto comfort as they fight in pain
do not forget or their fight is vein 
we pray in grief
we don't understand
thousands more die
hearts hand... in hand
I don't have enough
we all want more
our selfish lives yet we ignore
every minute
every day dreadful news comes in dismay
one more second
we all hold on
in that second a life is gone
cherish yours
do not wait
tell her you love her before its too late
as the sun sets on another day
this air is cold and torn
say your prayers
don’t close your eyes because you may not wake up alive
I see them die
By my own hand
Reflections of myself
He was a man
They call me brave
Cause I lay down my life
I reject all their medals
what are they for?
Being a good soldier...
I am not anymore
They said serve your country
Not kill other men
They gave me a gun
Said have no regret
They gave me a uniform
Said wear it with pride
I said how can I do so when so many die?

Copyright © miguel williams | Year Posted 2015

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the good soldier

You cry burning tears
Over friends lost soul
He died in the battle
Not so long ago
Forever lost in the void
You so longed to close
Gather you courage
You must let him go

Copyright © Reese Giroux | Year Posted 2009

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sit down, they say

sit down

they tell me

sit down

calm that voice

calm that spirit voice

thats wants to revolutionize

and change hateworld

calm that love

calm that spirit, they say

fearing day of love

fearing reckoning of truth

sit down

sit down they say

sit down they say

sit your thoughts down

sit your love down

sit your truth down

they say

they want to sit the truth down

they want to shut the truth up

I will not sit down

I will stand

I will stand erect and proud

like a lovesoldier that I am

searching for truth eternal

too moral

to hold

too moral to keep down

too moral to keep silent

do not tell me to stand

I will stand guard like a good soldier

I will stand.

Copyright © John Goodman | Year Posted 2013

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As I sit here seven past twelve

As it's just past Memorial Day Kymber
I wanted you of all to know I remember
you even though you weren't in the U.S. war
You fought for your life and that's for sure
I thought it only right to pay tribute to you, My Precious One
especially since you couldn't be here for the cookout and have fun
with the rest of the family and it breaks my heart to tell you this
just how much your momma can truly say you are missed
by all of us around here you know
you would have cooked and with the baby and been a glow
you were so  full of life my darling baby girl
life to you was so positive and you lived it every moment for sure
you fought to live while he snuffed the life out of you
for that you were a good soldier of sorts for mommy too
I couldn't let this day go by my dear
without paying tribute to my heart so real
I Love You and I always will
I want to be with you still
life is so undecided these days
please come to me, say something, I'm dying in pain
also forgive me my little one
for one more day is done
until tomorrow we'll do it over again
but nothing will change, mommy

Copyright © Faith Dye | Year Posted 2015

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Salute to a friend

Sparks fly and smoke billow from seven muzzles
Deep into her heart the explosion echoes
Flashing memories of a smiling face of a love now lost.
Lost in strife, conflicting ideals- caused

“Mommy, mommy I‘d like to see Daddy.”
“Hush my darling, Daddy is going away… very far away”

Wrinkled and flawless fingers alike clutch white roses
which began to rain down upon a flag draped casket
Memories of white petals floating down the aisle
as a radiant bride in white marching with pride and style.

“Will you take this man to be your loving Husband… I do…”
“ …I now pronounce you man and wife.. you may now kiss the …”

In a convoy of three humvees, the young lieutenant sat sternly
Impact resistant eye wear shut out the road glare
but offered little help from a flash so intense
it threw the leading vehicle ten feet in the air.

“Don’t you worry my Love, I will be back home soon”
“Kiss my little pumpkin for me …”

The horrors of war we read and see only in the news
but our brothers, husbands or fathers grit their teeth
uttering silent prayers amid the chaos of explosions
and the glaring reality of impending death. 

“Your husband fought bravely for his country maam…”
“He was a good soldier and a good friend…”

Copyright © Alex Conrad Seno | Year Posted 2008

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Right where it belongs

I sit in nothing but rotting death and decay
The world, this day, has it all gone away
Even though the lights in the sky have faded away
I stay and pick up the 1,000,000 pieces but hey,
We are in this together so it’s okay
It’s not like the mark has been made.
Although yes it is me
Although you may think this is complete
It is not all that could of been
It’s the day the world went away
Maybe the god given child will say
“I will protect you; I am Thor’s night and day.”
Then the purity and the good soldier will bask in the sea of dreams
As the great destroyer is as adrift in a warm place as a soul
And my mom’s way will be as clear as air on a sunny day.

Copyright © Reese Giroux | Year Posted 2009

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Daddy Dementia

My daddy forgot my name
Long before he died
Although he always kept
That twinkle in his eye 

They call it dementia 
But I myself call it hell
For all that we went through
And just how bad it felt

I watched him walk around
As he picked on walls
Trying his very best
At wiping something off 

I still wonder to this day
What it is he thought
In his imaginary space
Or if he thought at all

Life brought to him the battle
And to life he brought the fight 
But as any good soldier knows
There will come a time

Where in the heat of war
There is no winning side
It takes away the best in life
Whether you live or you die

I wish he was here to tell
How much I'm missing him
But I missed my daddy
Long before he left

Copyright © Mike Hauser | Year Posted 2016

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"In Gods Hands"

The hands have come down and picked its children...
I am still hear alone but God must have his reason...
Could I have done some things wrong in this life...
Or maybe I'm chosen to stay hear for another fight...
Yet still I'm alone with so many thoughts of concern...
I have not been an angel but have lived and learned...
The plan has put me here to serve and follow...
It is not my intention to question or wallow...
I shall wait for my directions as a good soldier should...
And be strong and good willed and do all that I could...

For "Left Behind" contest

Copyright © Michael J. Falotico | Year Posted 2010

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The Fall

Last night, 
after I was struck under the ground, and did not, could not get up;
 I met one of the most beautiful of all beings that God could ever create; an Arch Angel…
Her robes of black night sky 
and six wings of silver holy starlight wrapped around me, 
and I felt the cool sensation of her hands on my face; like a cool babbling brook.

 The dark blue sapphires that sat in her skull
 shone as she stared at me 
with her loving expression.

Her silvery tresses fell around me, 
and they smelled sweet, of milk and honey. 
She smelled of the Holy land; 
she was surely an angel from heaven, 
sent to bring me home.
She then spoke to me, 
and her voice was like a sweet and warm whisper
 floating on a soft summer breeze.
I felt her intertwine her fingers with mine, and she spread her six wings, and she pulled me 
from my grave, and she said,
 “Join me, come home, good soldier.” 
I felt myself turn into a feather; weightless, and light. 
I had once been so cold, and then I felt warm again.

As I rose, I saw similar robes that the woman was wearing wrap around me and melt away 
the clothes that I was buried in.  
I felt my two smaller wings, incomparable to hers,
 spread and I flew with her, to the beautiful gates of gold that lead to my final destination 
and home.
When I approached the gates, I heard the voice of a fatherly man say, 
“Welcome home, my true and faithful servant.” 
I then lifted my foot and began on my way though the gates of gold…

But then everything took a turn for the worst, 
and there was a weight on my ankles. 
A tight grip that seemed to tug at first, but then I was yanked, 
and I fell.
 I fell so fast that the beautiful angel couldn’t save me in time. 
Nor could the fatherly voice could reach me in time.
I saw the beautiful paradise in front of me be yanked away, 
and vanish along with the angel and the voice that spoke so kindly to me. I knew in that 
instant that I fell, 
that I would never be able to go back.
I felt the mussels of my new wings tear and the bones shattering, breaking from the shear 
force of my weight from trying to catch me in the wind.
My new garments were torn away and left I was left naked.
My new hair was tattered and was blotched with the black of the night and the white of what 
the angel had given me. It seemed like I had fallen for hours, and I heard a whisper…
Of a child perhaps…
That said…

“Oh! A falling star! Make a wish!”

Copyright © Sage Chief | Year Posted 2009

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Quiet now, quiet now

I write freely, 
without you,
your trespass.
Love has a
whispers and songs 
in the dark
bring a 
vintage wine,

No offense, but
these are
my words 
of straw, 
written indelibly,
to and about

Life, this pulse,
ocean of pleasantness,
reaches out,
her hands wet and full,
deadly too.
I yield
to her feral call,
hungry, naked

Interior world
of screams, 
vast and 
stolen, wishes 
upon the suicidal 
Goodnight and 
so long.   

Quiet now, 
quiet now,
to you belongs
the kingdom 
you possess
and so long for,
crucify your 
curses there,
upon that cross,
a good soldier,
marching across
the marshes 
of your own

I will drink
the nectar
of rest, and you,
your twisted 
and memories
like sores 
on your 
tired body.

Copyright © John Byrd | Year Posted 2016

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Sicut Miles Christi

 Sicut Miles Christi I stand tall 
Sicut Miles Christi I give my all 
To a Man who deprived the devil of his will 
To a Man who tumbled the Jericho's hill  

 I'm a soldier in the army of my Lord
 Equipped with the Spirit’s sword 
A battle I’m called to fight 
For the glory of His light   

Sicut Miles Christi I’m never alone 
Sicut Miles Christi I build on this stone
 A soldier always in a battle ready mode
 Designed to break and decipher the devil’s code   

Yes! I've prevailed in the battle fray 
His blood brought victory today 
On Calvary Cross I fix my eyes 
So I can attain the promised prize   

Sicut Miles Christi I'll fight to the end 
Stand steadfast my faithful friend 
Fill my heart with bravery oh my Master 
With unflinching faith exuding like a blazer  

 Sicut Miles Christi what should we fear? 
When the Lord has conquered with His spear
 As a Soldier of Christ be vigilant in thy task 
A selfless sacrifice the Master dare to ask   

 “Endure hardship with us like a good soldier of Christ Jesus.”  2Timothy 2:3

Footnote: Sicut Miles Christi (A Latin phrase, it's Literal  Translation is: “As a Soldier of Christ”) is the motor of my Alma Mater Bishop Herman College. It was established on 28 February 1952. It was the first secondary school established by the Catholic Church in the  Region.The College was named after a French Catholic Bishop , Auguste Herman. Bishop Herman had impacted me more than any school. In fact I am proud of my alma mater.

Copyright © Gideon Foli | Year Posted 2017

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The Setting Of The Sun: Part Two

Tommy Atkins was a good boy
grew to be a good man, good soldier,
packed up his troubles in an old kit bag and smiled
as his entrails blew out with aplomb;
he died as the black rain struck his slowly glazing eyes
good son, good husband, good father
left only good for fertilizing the Somme.
Damned carnage-strewn carnival
of barbed wire bisected mustard gas days;
how “great” was the great war,
how “great” was the harm
when old strategists cast generations of youth
into the stalemate jaws of trench warfare death
and all those young hopefuls who bought the dream
unwittingly bought the farm.
Two decades down the smouldering road,
up rolls Euro Death Circus
rolling out Four Horsemen and a Fascist regime insane;
now technology enhanced the butchery
with planes and tanks, boats and submarines
and all the young hopefuls bought the farm again.
Proudly she revels in her past glory,
wallowing and exalting, sucking rotten cold comfort
from the memorial corpse of a golden fleece;
learning nothing;
we’ll meet again, no doubt,
over the white cliffs of Dover
beneath Spitfire engine trails, perhaps;
for she may have won the war,
yet she has surely lost the peace.
A land once fit for heroes, warrior kings and demigods,
now freezes crippled and immobile
when the race into the future has begun;
in a pox of politically correct Fascism on one hand
and the real thing on the other,
where is the hand of reason to stop the fall of night,
stop the setting of the sun...?

Copyright © Tony Bush | Year Posted 2006

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Sgt Shultz Defense

He knew how to keep his job:
Follow orders,
speak to superiors only when spoken to
And always give a subservient nod
His grandfather taught his father,
and his father taught him ...
Be loyal to the State
Serve and obey 
the patriotic, military way
And when in doubt, 
this is what you say: I know nothing
Now stationed at the White House,
he can see the vultures circling
And he remembers what his grandfather would often say
Sgt. Shultz was a wise, old grandfatherly soul of a man
But when Germany fell at the end of WWII,
he cut bait and ran
Though he didn’t do no wrong during the war,
this he swore
Still, he wasn’t so American sure
Sgt. Shultz was a good soldier,
but he wasn’t no hero, not by a stretch
However, he treated his POW’s well,
and told the American colonel Hogan
that his CO Col. Klink, one day was gonna go to hell
Though he insisted, he committed no crime during the war ...
this he doubly swore,
saying he knew nothing
Concerning this alibi, 
he just wasn’t rock solid American sure
As he headed towards 
the Statue of Liberty democratic shore
His wife and him had brushed up on their English,
and passed through Ellis Island Station
And became melting pot citizens of this great nation
But over time, 
he trained his son, and his son’s son
how to safely straddle the fence
And passed on the family’s living treasure:
known as the Sgt. Shultz defense

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2017

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Our Soldiers

Im very proud of our brave men and women
who fight for our freedom every day
calling home when they can
we ask how they've been
and like a good soldier say okay

But as a mother and I'm sure many others
we at times hear something in their voices
this war has taken it's toll, they need to get home
but home isn't one of their choices

And yes I understand my son took an oath
to serve - to protect - to defend
but the military made promises to him as well  
but once deployed do those promises end

So I'm sure you'll agree when I say freedom isn't free
if comes at an astronomical cost
just look around you open your eyes
see how many soldiers we've lost

Copyright © J Dawn | Year Posted 2009

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Psalm Forty-Two Me As You, Us And Them

The Smashing Pumpkins, shake down nineteen seventy-nine
Cool kids never held the signs; and we don't even care, as restless
As we are; hung down, with the freaks and ghouls ? Knowing that Paul told
His Timothy, tis not 'Our Heavenly Father's Will,' to entangle oneself within wordly 
Affairs this, being a good soldier; within Faithful's ranks, while we war not flesh and blood....
Surely their carnal nay the day, rather, pulling down these strong holds ? Mother earth she weeps
Waiting, for her deliverence; all of creation together, they groan; left panting aside, His, water brooks
Beautiful's majestic dawn you'll, ask ? Let go of your heart let go of your head, and feel it now, Babylon.


Copyright © Johnny Rhinem | Year Posted 2013

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fallen leaves , soldier tree

torrent of tear's fall , as a springtime rain
the earth quakes , rumbles , from all the pain

my chest heaves from the anguish i see
fallen leaves from the Soldier Tree

the hurt inside is'nt easy to hide
blood stained sleeves is all i find

as one leaf fall's amongst from thee
all the rest will follow thee

one loss is everybody's loss
why do these war's have to be fought ?

when did it all begin , when will it all end ?

not every good soldier get's to come home
your courage will be forever known

you are not just anybody's son or daughter
you are everybody's brave sent to slaughter

i will alway's remember the pain i see
as i watch the leaves fall........
from the Soldier Tree .

Copyright © jay del fierro | Year Posted 2007

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What if I would die suddenly, this day
What would kin and acquaintances  say
That I was smart, clever keeping my cool
That I was gentleman, quite hard to fool
That I could be counted as a friend
That I was generous, willing to lend
That my word was solid, all could rely
That I was honest, not living a lie

That I was true, earning your trust
That I was faithful, eschewing lust
That I was a good son, most of the time
That I was a good soldier, many will chime
That I was a good husband, in my life
That I was a true partner, to my wife

That I was a good father, to my progeny
That I was a good provider, to my family
That I was great: praised often in the eulogy
That I will be missed, by those knowing me
That I will be lauded, in glowing terms
That I was a luminary, the mourners affirm

There is a duty that all mourners share
The deceased is treated with vocal care
True feelings are seldom brought to light
Any ugly experiences are hidden from sight
No truer words have ever been said
Everyone loved me, now that I’m dead



Copyright © John Arribas | Year Posted 2018

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A Good Soldier

Being a good soldier is a lofty aspiration.
Achievement of this goal brings high admiration.
This purpose should be one’s determination,
Gratitude will result from a proud nation.

To see this high and lofty end,
Attention to detail must one lend.
Devotion to duty must he never bend,
Loud and clear must this message he send.

Above and beyond is his call,
Careful to never in disgrace fall.
Proudly with his peers standing tall,
Confidence and courage he shows to all.

Copyright © DrJim Martin | Year Posted 2012