PoetryPause

matthewashbrook.com ©

With a Soldier's Heart

 

On this battlefield

Where the will must yield

To the courage drawn

From a gambler's deal,

You must stand your ground

Without a shield

On what you feel.

 

From a wounded base

I take my place

In this field of mines

I state my case.

Win or lose

I run the race

Face to face.

 

I give up gournd

When I hear the sound

I've heard before

In another town.

I load my gun

WIth another round

Into battle bound.

 

Through the cracked veneeer

You can read the fear

Of the tragic face

In the broken mirror.

The guns are drawn,

The aim is clear,

'Though the eyes may tear.

 

When the music starts

I read my part

On this stage we play

With a broken heart.

In the footlight's spray

I'll dance my part

WIth a soldier's heart.