Treasure Island

Summer Sandercox

(4/15/1990 / albany, ny)

You Make Me Proud


Spit shine the boots
they dress in green
load up their rifles
taught to be mean.

Their orders are waiting,
sent to the field
to protect their country
they've been trained to kill.

They stand their post
both day and night
no matter what the cost
they're always ready to fight.

Big price to pay
put their lives on the line
saving a lot of others
like yours and mine.

Get very little sleep
go to work everyday
so we can have freedom
and watch our kids play.

Leave their families alone
make sure we're safe
stand their own ground
and keep their faith.

Here's to the boys
that do it everyday
who take flying bullets
or get blown away.

You make me proud
it's an honor to say
'you'll be in my prayers
even though you're away.'

Submitted: Wednesday, September 12, 2007
Edited: Friday, April 08, 2011
Listen to this poem:

Do you like this poem?
0 person liked.
0 person did not like.

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Comments about this poem (You Make Me Proud by Summer Sandercox )

Enter the verification code :

  • Brian Mills (9/12/2007 9:16:00 PM)

    GREAT write for our soldiers....some who never get to come back home......10 hands down.......some pay the ultimate price for OUR freedom.....for freedom is truly not free....its paid with our hero's blood! ! ! ! dont ever forget 9/11 or any of our fallen hero's

    Brian (Report) Reply

Read all 1 comments »

Top Poems

  1. Phenomenal Woman
    Maya Angelou
  2. The Road Not Taken
    Robert Frost
  3. If You Forget Me
    Pablo Neruda
  4. Still I Rise
    Maya Angelou
  5. Dreams
    Langston Hughes
  6. Annabel Lee
    Edgar Allan Poe
  7. If
    Rudyard Kipling
  8. Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
    Robert Frost
  9. I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings
    Maya Angelou
  10. A Dream Within A Dream
    Edgar Allan Poe

PoemHunter.com Updates

Poem of the Day

poet Alfred Lord Tennyson

It little profits that an idle king,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged wife, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage race,
...... Read complete »

   
[Hata Bildir]