He's an Angel

A sea of green,

moving quietly, 


hidden by their surroundings,

so as not to be seen by the predators ahead.


Then whistling,

like when your father whistles.

Real quick, 

barely noticeable,

but it was enough for them.


A rage of firing,

like a swarm of hornets ready to attack.

Noises that would have killed others,

but they were used to it.



The color of the blood splattered everywhere after the bullets hit.


The wounded cry of the soldiers,

In pain,

In anguish,

and they lay on the ground,

knowing it's their time to see the God above.


But a man,

A man who grew up small as a lamb, 

nicknamed PeeWee because of this size,

but who wouldn't back down no matter what he looked like.

Now he towers over others,

and though he may appear frightening,

the heart of gold inside him is what shows,

what stands out,

especially in times like these.


A man who loves a woman so much,

he asked her to marry him.

She said yes.


A man that when he stood at the altar and saw her walk down the aisle, 

cried because of his immense love for her,

and how she would be his.


The man, 

who had two little soldiers of his own.

They stuck by his side,

and loved him like he was all that mattered.


A man that stood up for himself,

for others,

and when the time came, he chose to serve.

Serve the country that's free and that we take for granted.


And when he was about to leave, 

he looked at his sons with tears in their eyes,

and looked at his wife who could barely stand,

all encased in emotion,

overwhelmed by the fact that he was going away.


A man who can run out into the battlefield, 

even during all the confusion, 

even though he knew he might die,

he would give up his life for others in need.


The bullets soared towards him, 

chased him angrily, grazing his body.

The bullets, they moved like a wave,

trying to penetrate the man who ran in their path.


A man whose bravery, 


and humility,

saved the injured and allowed them to escape.


The man who wasn't there to stand on the stage and wear the star of honor.


A woman,

standing on a stage, gripping a picture that means so much to her,

and was shaking,

trying to hold back her tears in order to be as brave as the man she loved was.


Two sons,

on the verge of tears, gazing at the sky,

admiring their dad who they knew was above/


That ceremony was to celebrate,

celebrate the man's honor and dignity.

But no celebration, no prize, no award,

would ever be enough for the things he did to save others.


The award recognized him as a hero.

But he was more than any hero, 

in fact,

he was more than any superhero fantasized and dreamed of, 

because what he did was real,

real and meaningful.

His deeds will surpass those of fiction,

and he is not ordinary.


He's an angel.


This poem is about: 
My country
Poetry Terms Demonstrated: 


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