Soldier

He raised his old and ragged gun,
Blinded by the glaring sun,
Distant cries from rebel cheers,
Feels the boy with chills and fears.

Seventeen, barely lived his life,
Has no kids, no waiting wife,
Joined a cause he thought was true,
Poor boy didn't have a clue.

Saw the news one night at home,
Soldiers dead their day had come,
It filled the boy with rage and hate,
That men were handed such a fate.

Next day he joined the fearless ranks,
With machine guns, helicopters, trucks and tanks,
He marched with pride and no regret,
For in his mind his path was set.

Standing with his gun held high,
The sun glaring in the sky,
The attack is quick, the ranks they break,
Rapid fire they do take.

His hit just once, in the leg,
He doesn't fall or plead or beg,
He simply keeps his gun aimed straight,
Takes out six, seven, eight.

He and his comrades say farewell,
To all the soldiers that had fell,
With tears that form but never fall,
He stood back straight, standing tall.

Fifteen years on, his still in the fight,
Grateful for every day and night,
His still not married or in love,
He prays each night to the guy above.