Not Just a Soldier


United States
41° 10' 56.838" N, 95° 26' 46.7952" W

I pull into the wooded area, marked with a sign

With tear-filled eyes, I find what was once mine

Chills run down my spine as my car slows to a stop

I glance to my left and my stomach drops

I see the old gravestone then, blanketed in dirt

The icy wind starts to blow my long black skirt

My skin looks pale next to my crimson lips

I reach down and touch his stone, cold on my fingertips

I’ve tried to stay resilient; tried to stay strong

Staying away from my memories for far too long

But my yearning for him is replaced by questions and fear

Why have you left me lonely, my dear?

What’s going to happen to our baby Brooklyn Mae?

Who’s going so lead her down the wedding isle someday?

These questions plague me as I kneel wilted next to his grave

I remember those lyrics, “In the home of the brave”

It brings me back to that evening, when my phone rang

And at his funeral, the National Anthem they sang

I start to weep as I remember his face

I always looked for fear, but there was never a trace.

He always stood strong, devoted, and ready to die for people like me,

And for thousands of people who assume freedom is free

This freedom we take for granted, he paid for with his life,

And like many fallen soldiers, we live because they died.


MVP-Most Valuable Poet

powerful msg

well said

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