Soldier Poems | Examples of Soldier Poetry

..they were sent by those who sat upon pedestals so high whose life was sheltered and dry and saw the new days bright shining light and they were the ones... who kept their hands fresh and clean by sending others to do their evil bidding in a another's land, a land far from home no...they were not the ones who saw...

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They all wanted to be “Real men” So off into the cruel seas they go In a big scrap of metal.. Might as well be going to their coffins.. And so they did, i never saw them again.. And when i think of them, all i can see is the pain and...

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We were worn from war, emptied and exhausted, with morose winter of psyche, it took courage in calling, crossing the dusky abyss. We heard their collective caring voices, their calming connecting reassurance. They give their time just for us, it is now the morning of our risings. ~...

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In the silence of the battlefield, they stand, A soldier's heart, a warrior's hand, He, in armor, strong and true, She, with courage, breaks through. Their love is forged in fire and steel, In every wound, their spirits heal. Side by side, they fight as one, Underneath the same rising sun. His gaze, a promise, fierce and...

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One dark morning at 2am I stood there alone. My life in pieces, many things had gone wrong. The pain was so deep, no light I could see. I could not believe, what was happening to me. No other person I thought has felt this pain. Mine was the worst, and that was my claim....

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At dawn of that ninth when shadows still clung, Against the harsh orders, a desperate song. Seventy thousand with bodies so frail, Surrendered on Bataan, a heartbreaking trail. No glorious charge but a choice born of need, To save those still breathing to plant a small seed Of hope in the darkness though bitter the cost, A sacrifice made lest all should...

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Rushing into the battlefield with all the might, No turning back, fighting for what is right. For the country, for the motherland, Those hundreds for thousands, with rifles in their hand. They have nothing, but memories of their loved ones, All for their dearest motherland. When we sleep in cozy beds, They sleep on cold-stricken ground When we eat heartily, they...

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The Echo Returns Not Sponsor : Unseeking the Seeker [ Poet’s note : SOLOMON MAHLANGU was a South African Freedom fighter & cherished leader in revolutionary army, Umkhonto we Sizwe. He was sentenced to death by hanging, by the Apartheid Government on 2 March 1978 & hung on 6 April 1979. Though he was not actually...

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As the warm, yellow sun set upon the low hills. And the cold damp wind gave me chills. I shed a tear that very day. The first of thousands some might say. My friends, my fellow soldiers. Their death now strung on my shoulders. For the blood shed on this field. Forever in my heart will be sealed. Is it a...

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BRONX SOLDIER ( this is a true story ) He was a soldier - Bronx born and raised and learned the streets at an early age .helping other people where ever he went- knowing about sacrifices and what it meant . Sharing lunches with the homeless on the streets and speaking with...

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soldiers who want to write, instead they fight. soldiers who want to dance, instead, they stand in a fighting stance. soldiers who want to sing their song, instead they march all day long. soldiers who want to act, but they can',t they face the fact. that soldiers with soul must pay the toll. ...

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War drums pound to the beat of victorious sound High atop a mound where eternity is easily found Out beyond far astray we reject the beatin path a new trail has come inviting the way With light for each new day We strive we live to win the fight Soldiers of a mighty cause We've come along with strength and...

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(From1) Snowflakes whisper peace, in Frozen air, Echoes of battle, comrade beyond repair. (Form2) Alone I stand, in snowy vastness wide, Blood- soaked memories, my comrade demise. (Form3) Before me, snow's pure silence deep, Behind crimson shadows, comrades sleep. ...

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A wind-induced smile greets me. Cradling the baby’s head, floccose like a ripe raspberry; I’m both filled with wonder and dread. The fragrance of the care products is a stark contrast to the latibule I’ve habituated for many years during my tours of duty. How am I to care for this fragile being when mankind...

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I like to think that you were there when muezzin trills called to prayer. Calm stillness drifted in au clair, my thoughts were pining on the air. I like to think that you were there as pastel-colored skies so rare unfolded day's soft morning glare. A comfort holding no compare. I like to think that you were there in uniform, so debonaire! A dream of...

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