An Old Soldier's Story
George Weslow
As my mind probes deep
into the depths of Hell,
I remember an old soldier
with a story to tell.
He said "Son", I've fought in wars
since before you were born,
I've seen its victims
their bodies all twisted and torn.
I've heard the helpless screams of the dying
I've seen millions of tears,
and these memories have haunted me
through all of these years.
I've seen the toils of a lifetime
crash to the ground in a day,
to lie in total defeat
to rot, and decay.
Often, I've stood at my window
and looked down on the graves,
in the Arlington Cemetery
the final resting place of the posthumously brave.
The white tombstones stretch out
as far as you can see,
and under each one, a Patriot
who believed he was setting us free.
"Son", look at the world
and the shape it's in,
and think of those Patriots
who will never rise again.
And while you're preparing
to go off to war,
ask yourself this question
is it really freedom, I'm fighting for?
What about those people
I'm going there to kill,
do they feel the same way
is this of their own will?
Think it over "Son"
be sure you're positive,
because the stakes are mighty high
it's your own life you may have to give.
As the old soldier's story closes
and he slowly fades from sight,
my mind is filled with mixed emotions
God... I don't know, was he wrong or was he right?
Published @ COVE
April 2022
