Sunday, February 6, 2011

This is a poem I wrote in high school. It was inspired by my grandpa Hughes who fought in WWII. He used to tell me war stories. He fought in the south Pacific. My Grandpa DeHart was also a WWII survivor. I have a deep respect for those that have given their service for our country. My dad and I were having a discussion tonight about the war stories my grandpa used to tell us and it reminded me of this poem. God Bless America!!

The Soldier Poem by Becky Haskins

THE SOLDIER

One who was young,
dreaming of being great yet living so simply.
He had a family, working hard just to make it.
The young man was called off to war,
To defend and protect our country.

Many were the battles, great were the losses,
and precious were the lives that were taken.
The men were in the air, on land, on sea, in tanks.
Like great waves they rolled on,
on to what was hoped would be victory.
People fought. Hiding, creeping,
scared, wondering, patriotism, hate, just living.

Why war? The enemy becomes
an angry animal, waiting to attack.
The roaring, the shooting, bombing, fire, smoke...
The devastation, ashes, ruins, death.
Inhumane actions, hate rumbling and stirring
all the emotions of the human soul.

Great love, to let this country live on,
great hope, to save each individual,
no matter what effort it required.
The anguish of even one soul lost.

Tears couldn't explain what the emotions felt.
The families told of loved ones lost,
back home working for the war effort.
Each day their lives were filled with worry,
wondering if they would return safely.

The scars left. The war was won on
the outside. But inside...
Each day is a constant battle to go on.

The young man sent off to war has now
grown old.
The country prospers, the hate subsides.
But inside he still remembers,
the fighting, the fear, his life so
precious, but so easily taken.
He is one of the survivors with
the lasting effects.
His patriotism never died, the flag
still proudly waves.

He questions the world today, so willing
to sacrifice what was fought so long
and hard for.
Those who were there cannot explain.
Those who weren't there can never know,
never understand.
Those who did not live it cannot feel the pain,
or smooth the scars hidden by a lifetime.

The once young soldier is now able to
pass his judgement on. We can only listen,
and never sacrifice what he fought so hard
to preserve.
We must respect the country,
the flag, those who have gone before,
and those who are still present who gave
us what we have today.

The man now sits quietly pondering.
Never does a day pass without rememberance,
without thankfulness for the peace which now
encompasses us.
It is up to us to keep the dream alive,
the peace preserved, the flag held in reverence, and
to give respect to those who have gone before.


Becky Hughes (Haskins)