His history is written by the scars upon his face
They're souvenirs of the role he played to save the human race
He didn't understand those rules when he marched off to war
He only knew it was a cause that was worth fighting for
He didn't know rule number one was that some men must die
He only saw the uniforms on soldiers passing by
He didn 't know the price of war was the loss of human life
So he hurried up and signed a pledge began his army life
Once overseas he fought the fight with the good the strong the brave
And dreamed of home and family where freedom's banner waved
Then came the awful firefight where some men lost the race
And someone tossed a hand grenade that blew up in his face
Now after months of agony well he's back home again
Gone is the youthful soldier, hes' a sadder wiser man
He's learned full well the rules it seems where the game of war is played
And his scars will be the trophy that he'll carry to his grave
Now he will tell his story to those who care to hear
But if his country fights again he'll have to stay right here
Still if he could he'd join the fight to keep us safe and free
Because he loves America he'd die for you and me.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem