He walks around town
with his head bowed low
As if he's ashamed
Of lifes fatal blow
He seldom speaks
Nor, does he have many friends
But society put him in a place
Now he'll have to pay in the end
He was sent to iraq
Just to kill his fellow man
Though it wasn't his fault
He was sent there by Uncle Sam
It came down to it
Kill or be killed
He shot a few to save a friend
He was never to be able to be thrilled
Some give him a glare
As if he's some maniac man
He just did what he had to do
Down deep, he's the same man
There are night he can't sleep
For the dreams and night mares
He still loves his country
There are a few who know he still cares
He came back to a love
That time had taken away from him
Cheated of that future
That he had so dreamed of way back when
He lives in a shelter
Because, he's pretty much given up
Wondering what tomorrow will bring
But, there's not much hope, for a whipped pup
He needs all of our prayers
The ones that we can affort to spare
Though some might say
He's not worth the time, why should we care
He never gave a second thought
When his commander gave him that gun
Now he can only wonder why
And now he cries at each setting sun
So if you see a soldier
Out slumping on some back street
Be sure to shake the soldiers hand
And always give him a friendly greet
written 10/8/12 by Norman Hale Jr
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem