THE SOLDIER

"THE SOLDIER"

HE SITS IN A FOXHOLE, COLD AND ALONE,
HE WISHES HE WOULD GET SOME WORD FROM HOME.
THE BULLETS ARE FLYING, RIGHT OVER HIS HEAD,
BUT, FOR TONIGHT, THE FOXHOLE IS HIS BED.
HE IS FIGHTING FOR HIS COUNTRY, WITH ALL HIS MIGHT,
HE IS DOING HIS DUTY, BECAUSE HE KNOWS IT'S RIGHT.
HIS BUDDIES ARE LIKE FAMILY, SO CLOSE THEY HAVE BECOME,
THEY FIGHT, SIDE BY SIDE, THE ENEMY TO OVERCOME.
THEY THINK OF THEIR LOVED ONES, SO FAR, FAR AWAY,
AND PRAY THEY WILL SEE THEM, AGAIN ONE DAY.
WAR IS NO PICNIC, WAR IS NO FUN,
IN TIMES LIKE THIS, THEY LIVE BY THE GUN.
BOMBS ARE BURSTING, YOU CAN SEE THEIR LIGHT,
JUST REMINDS US, WE ARE IN FOR ONE HELL OF A FIGHT.
OUR PLANES COME TO RESCUE THE WOUNDED, AND HURT,
MEANWHILE, WE SCRAMBLE AND HIT THE DIRT.
HE THOUGHT HE WAS GROWN UP, AND READY FOR LIFE,
BUT NOTHING COULD PREPARE HIM FOR ALL OF THIS STRIFE.
HE'S SOMEBODIES BABY, SENT OFF TO WAR,
THE LESSONS HE IS LEARNING, ARE HARD ONE'S, BY FAR.
HE'S NOT ONLY A MAN NOW, BUT A SOLDIER, INDEED,
HE FIGHTS FOR HIS COUNTRY, SO WE WILL BE FREE.
SO GIVE HIM THE GLORY, FOR A JOB WELL DONE,
A MAN, A SOLDIER, A HUSBAND, A SON.

WRITTEN BY................NORMA MILUTIN