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#11
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ODE TO A MARINE
ODE TO A MARINE
In a crowd you're bound to spot him, He's standing so very tall Not too much impresses him; He's seen and done it all. His hair is short, his eyes are sharp, But his smile's a little blue. It's the only indication of the hell that he's gone through He belongs to a sacred brotherhood. Always Faithful 'til the end. He has walked right into battle and walked back out again. Many people think him foolish for having no regrets About having lived through many times others would forget. He's the first to go and last to know, but never questions why, On whether it is right or wrong, but only do or die. He walks a path most won't take and has lost much along the way, But he thinks a lot of freedom, It's a small price to pay. Yes, he has chosen to live a life off the beaten track, Knowing well each time he's called, He might not make it back. So, next time you see a DEVIL DOG standing proud and true, Be gratiful for all he's given; He's given it for you. Don't go up and ask him What's it's like to be in a war; Just thank God that it's your country He's always fighting for. And thank him too for all the hell He's seen in that shade of green. Thank him for having the guts to be a UNITED STATES MARINE. Sempers, Roger
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IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY HUSBAND SSgt. Roger A. One Proud Marine 1961-1977 68/69 http://www.geocities.com/thedrifter001/ |
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#12
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Fate of a Marine
Since time began, countless men have asked,
What is the meaning, what is life?s task? Is it to love, or to play, or to live in good health? Or obsess over cars, houses, and wealth. Do we each live life in our own little way? Or is it all fate, and have we no say? Well I awoke this ?morn, and said to the mirror, ?This is your life, you decide it right here!? And so to the parade, I go in my blues, I balance my cover, and polish my shoes. The glare of the buttons reflects on the wall, I puff out my chest, and stand quite tall. The look of a Marine, determined and proud, I raise my hand sharply, a salute to the crowd. But does the crowd know, what fate holds for me, Or do they just see blue, and forget what may be. Two years or less, and my blues will be folded, Stored in a closet, while my fatigues become scolded. The cover replaced by a thick Kevlar cap, My crisp sharp salute, now a comrade?s taps. The crowd will be gone, their faces now faded, A reminder of what was, a memory serenaded. The dust and the heat, will bite at my cheeks, And I?ll clean my rifle, and pray for the weeks. Someone must do it, go protect the right, Someone must leave here, and go to the fight. My grandfather said, ask ?why not me?? And so there I?ll sit, far over the sea. I won?t have regrets, or wish I was back, For if I weren?t there, who?d pick up the slack? Would you go in place, to toy with your fate? Or sit back at home, and silently wait? No the time will come, and I will go, The time will come, and I?ll have to show. All that I ask for my fate in return, Is the respect that myself and the others will earn. Because one day I?ll be back, and I?ll put on my blues, I?ll balance my cover, and polish my shoes. My buttons will gleam on the wall once again, And people will ask me, ?Where have you been?? So I will tell them, I was protecting their rights, I will tell them of war, and of nightmarish nights. Maybe then they?ll know, what we have done, This war we have fought, their safety we?ve won. Until then I?ll sit back, and listen to laughter, Of the ignorant people, whose safety we?re after. It matters not though, to the Marine dressed in blues, Given the choice, WE know what we?ll choose. Sempers, Roger graphic made by Doug Kidd
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IN LOVING MEMORY OF MY HUSBAND SSgt. Roger A. One Proud Marine 1961-1977 68/69 http://www.geocities.com/thedrifter001/ |
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