He started as a little boy from any small hometown
He loved to throw and hit a ball but never gained renown
His parents taught him right from wrong and how to do his best
So he grew up in a normal way about like all the rest
Like any young adult he had his dreams and yes his fears
And yet possessed a wisdom that was older than his years
When war broke out his conscience pushed him to join in the fight
And as he left for war he told his mom he'd be alright
He learned the art of soldiering; learned how to fight and shoot
But yet his core humanity remained beyond repute
And so this ordinary boy found himself one day
In an extraordinary battle in a country far away
Thinking not about himself but of his fellow men
He bravely fought toward a vicious enemy and then
He died there on that battlefield on just another day
While we were left with memories and tears to wipe away
This is a common tale about such fine, uncommon men
Who fight and die for freedom never asking where or when
So now we must forgive ourselves for letting them depart
Knowing that forgiveness lives in every soldier's heart
Heart touching. I have lived in times of peace and know of only one friend who perished in a short revolution. I still try to find a good reason for his sudden loss of life. Deep inside I know, his dead was wrong, violence is wrong. I do believe that as long as humans have armies they need wars.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
As a vet of W.War 2, I greatly appreciate this sincerely moving tribute. You said it so well. You might appreciate my Before The Next Bomb Falls poem