When you look into a mother’s eyes_ you see her tears as she cries.
Her child is gone to a foreign land_ duty called to take a stand.
War is hell at the end of the day_ when duty calls, he’ll not turn away.
A soldier never knows his fate_ but fight he will against tyranny and hate.
Fight he will, sick or ill_ even if his brother lies bleeding at his heel.
That brother is first, that’s the soldier’s way_ he will protect him first , his country another day.
But his country he will defend, make no mistake_ because duty calls, regardless his fate.
So when you see khakies or greens_ offer your hand and pleasant dreams.
A soldier’s boots walk many foreign land_ duty called, he’ll make his stand.
Though he knows war is hell_ he will answer that ringing bell…
The “Bell of Liberty” has not come cheap_ blood and death, he knows he may reap.
But he is a soldier, the best of us all_ he’ll fight to give freedom, liberty to all.
a poem, tribute to our soldiers.