UNKNOWN SOLDIER

3 Comments

UNKNOWN SOLDIER

He had his thumb high in the air trying to hitch a ride.

I never pick up hitchhikers, but i pulled my car off to the side.

He climbed in and said "thank you" I've been standing here awhile.

It aint easy getting a ride out here, he said with a big smile.

I've been trying to find my way back home since the Vietnam war ended.

I want to make sure my family is ok and that thier hearts have mended.

You know, i'm not the only soldier wandering around these parts.

There are many like me still mending broken hearts.

I wished him luck when we reached the place he needed to be.

I saw a rundown little farm house, and a tire swing hanging from a tree.

He said "thank you maam, I'm finally home, after all theses years".

I enjoyed the talk, I appreciate the ride, He said fighting back the tears.

It's gonna be good to see momma and daddy and my little sister again. 

I need to tell them how i gave my life for a country i still defend.

I felt a sadness come over me as he walked away from my car.

But he turned to smile and wave before he walked to far.

I never got your name son, please tell me before you go.

I'm on the vietnam memorial wall, for all who want to know.

He headed toward the tiny house and slowly faded away.

I knew this is where his heart belonged and his soul would always stay.

He loved his country and defended it, with honor and with pride.

I'm so glad i pulled over that night to give an unknown soldier a ride.

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Dano commented on UNKNOWN SOLDIER

04-21-2010

this made the hair on my arms stand up... very nicely written

KagenoKitsune commented on UNKNOWN SOLDIER

09-25-2009

this is very fantastic poem, i like it very much. thank you for sharing such a nice poem and story with me

cmlestrade commented on UNKNOWN SOLDIER

09-17-2009

Oh this is so well written so beautiful. Your words brought tears to my eyes. I am so grateful to all our soldiers. This beautiful poem makes me think of them.

The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

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