The Soldier

There he stands in uniform; strong and proud and bold
Epitome of manhood, yet just nineteen years old
Strong proud and arrogant, boot camp has done that
Everything is shiny from boots to badge on cap

Insolent in many ways for he’s a different breed
Earnest young marine, to fill his countries need
First to California where girls are mighty fine
Drink their beer from jugs; only poofs drink wine

Home on leave you see him, leader in the making
Off now to Iraq, yet few risks will be taking
Re-enlists while over there, can’t say the reason why
Been involved in fighting, knows that he might die

Doesn’t bother going home, nothing for him there
He has looked death in the eye; he has felt real fear
Next tour is a bad one, watches many buddies die
Now a very different looked etched into his eyes

Two Purple Hearts, a Silver Star, take him from the fight
Send him home to tell the people what we do is right
Put him in dress uniform, parade before the crowds
No longer the young man who once stood strong and proud

A waiter drops a plate and the soldier hits the floor
Eyes a haunted microcosm of the things he saw
Sleep was once so beautiful, now it twists and turns
Raging acid memories, deep within him burn

Now he’s out of uniform, no longer strong and bold
Shattered illusion of a man, just twenty-three years old

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Thankyou all for your comments

So many poems glorify war, but I don't see the glory in it anymore
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