The Patriot

Slowly he walked down the brown, dreary lane.
The morning was late and soft was the rain
Upon his scarred face and hands all stitched o’er
With marks he had earned when he fought in the war.
His brown eyes were heavy with memories from
The times after he had left behind his home:
The battles and gunshots – the face of each friend
Who’d fought by him bravely and died in the end.
So many now gone who would nevermore see
The land and the people they’d left to keep free.
How little they knew – the ones home and safe –
How great was the sacrifice their soldiers made.
But how sweet the air for this home-coming last,
And blessed the great ground o’er which his feet passed.
He’d do it again, if threatened by war
His country was. Yes, he would do it once more.
Yet now he was sad, for though he gave all
Nor shrank from his duty when raised was the call
For soldiers to arm, yet still those back home
Were set to forget all the pain he’d come from.
They would not admit that he’d fought the great foe
To save them from bondage and slavery. No,
Instead they reviled him, blamed him for the war
That he never started nor ever wished for.
They said that he killed the helpless just for fun,
When that was what the other side had done.
They said that he tried to conquer and enslave,
When all that he had done was defend and save.
They called him a villain, a murderous scum
And he wondered why he had ever come home.
Slowly the sun pushed itself through the rain
And lit up the mountains, the trees and the plain
With splendor so vibrant they all seemed to sing
With joy at their freedom and his home-coming.
The soldier stood still and looked down the lane
Where over a house all wet with the rain
There waved a bright banner of red-white-and-blue
Which, seeming to greet him, said “I trusted you
And you never failed me. Through bullet and bomb
You carried me high for those back at home.
Do not be worried or hurt by their blows;
Remember you fought so that they would not know
What pain really is or fear, or despair.
It is not right, and may never be fair,
But you know, and I know, and even more God
In whom is our trust, knows the battles you fought.
Thank you for fighting – never giving in.
Thank you for helping your brothers to win.
Thank you for caring and bearing me through
The storm. I fly only because of you.”
And there, in the lane, beneath the bright sky
Where freedom was free and the flag still could fly,
A man was seen standing, saluting with a
Tear in his eye and “God bless America.”