you do know something of me
my life was obscure
my death was not
you do not know when or where I died
but you know how I died.
death came to me
I was afraid because I did not want to
but I know that my death
would buy freedom
and happiness for others,
those living and yet to live.
I did not mind dying.
I am ready to face death with a smile.
I an the seventh soldier, the unknown soldier.
you know I am you
not recognized yet happy
poor yet helpful
dirty yet loving
obscure yet dedicated
small yet brave
unknown yet willing.
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This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
the seventh soldier is the real hero. moving poem.