May 31, 2015

The Final Inspection

The poem below is dedicated to everyone, who has fought life's battles, but most especially to the men and women who served in the Armed Forces and sacrificed their lives that the rest of us may still be free.

The lowly soldier stood and faced the Lord,
As everyone knows must come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.

Step forward now, you soldier,
And let Me deal with you.
Have you always turned the other cheek?
To the faith have you been true?'

The soldier squared his shoulders and
answered, 'No, Lord, I guess I ain't,
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most weekends,
And at times my talk was even tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Because the world's been awfully rough.

But, I never took a penny,
That wasn't mine to keep;
I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills just got too steep.

And I never asked or cried for help,
Though at times I shook with fear,
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
For I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here.
They never wanted me around,
Except to calm their fear.

But if you've a place for me, dear Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
And if you don't, I'll understand.

Silence reigned all around God's throne,
Where the saints had solemnly trod.
As the soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.

Come forward, my dear soldier,
You've borne your burdens very well.
Walk joyfully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell.

~ Contributed by Ralph/Anonymous ~

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