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Let the Bugler Play
A lonely figure stands at attention
Old, feeble and walks with a cane
He patiently waits
Despite his age would not complain.
A warm and gentle breeze blows
Where white headstone stood erect
And on this solemn occasion
He waits as they give their last respect
The bugler’s heart filled with sorrow
While others gather around a grave
The old-aged bugler ready
To honor the marine for the sacrifice he made
A young child beside his mother;
The widow overwhelmed with grief.
Memory of his father fading
For life with him was brief
A young marine served with honor
In a place called Afghanistan
With a Band of Brother
He made his final stand
And draped upon his casket
Old Glory...the Stars and Stripes
A symbol of Liberty
Made possible by brave and patriotic types
The pastor said there is no more worthy honor
Then to willing sacrifice one’s life
To maintain life’s sweet liberty
For his child, and his wife.
Upon the white headstones
A mist of raindrops begins to fall
Then slowly lowering the casket
The young child stands proud and tall
The solemn service over
The bugler sees his cue
Then slowly raises the bugle to his lips
And with a heavy heart he blew
Copyright ©
Johnny Martinez
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