Friday, June 12, 2020
'Soldier' - An Original Poem by Donovan Baldwin
Wrote this back in 1982, when I was still in Germany and still in the U.S. Army. Forgot about it until I happened to come across it this morning...
SOLDIER
By Donovan Baldwin
I'm lying in the mud, water mixing with my blood,
Perhaps I'm riding in a track or in a Jeep.
I'm cozy, safe and warm, far removed from any harm,
Except when I am too afraid to sleep.
I begin before it's light, and continue into night,
Whether slick-sleeve or with stars upon my shoulder.
I'm a boozer and a fighter, or a lover and a writer,
Puttin' in my time while growing older.
Hair that's not been cut away, was brown but's getting gray,
My pocket's empty almost all the time.
My uniforms have creases that can cut a man to pieces,
I use words no dictionary dares define.
Eat from cans, not caviar, and often drive my buddy's car,
Because my wreck won't pass this year's inspection.
I can cross the desert sand, or any piece of land,
Just point out here and there and give me a direction.
I'm paid nowhere near enough, to put up with all this stuff,
And the CO says I don't get paid for thinking.
Sergeants push me to the end, and then on around the bend,
Too proud to cry, I settle down to drinking.
I can't afford a spouse, but I have one...and a house,
Who would think that such a gal could love a soldier?
I can't tell her, or you, why I live the way I do,
The pages of my life filed in a folder.
I gripe, but call me I'll come running, or marching to the drumming,
If you need my life, I guess that's what I'll give.
Like other soldiers gone to war, who paid the price before,
The price placed on the life we want to live.
I can't say that I'll be brave, when the flags begin to wave,
Tattered, ripped, and torn by deadly fire.
I can only say that I, hope to give it my best try,
If I claimed any more I'd be a liar.
I'm a soldier dressed in green, often looked at, seldom seen,
Please spare a moment now to see me well.
For there might come a day, when I'll be called away,
To spend a tour in someplace close to Hell.
And, I might just not come back, when I carry off my pack,
To an unknown place somewhere around the earth.
So, stop and give a smile, that I can take with me a while,
Cause money cannot measure what I'm worth.
- Donovan Baldwin
29 March 1982
'Soldier' - An Original Poem by Donovan Baldwin
SOLDIER
By Donovan Baldwin
I'm lying in the mud, water mixing with my blood,
Perhaps I'm riding in a track or in a Jeep.
I'm cozy, safe and warm, far removed from any harm,
Except when I am too afraid to sleep.
I begin before it's light, and continue into night,
Whether slick-sleeve or with stars upon my shoulder.
I'm a boozer and a fighter, or a lover and a writer,
Puttin' in my time while growing older.
Hair that's not been cut away, was brown but's getting gray,
My pocket's empty almost all the time.
My uniforms have creases that can cut a man to pieces,
I use words no dictionary dares define.
Eat from cans, not caviar, and often drive my buddy's car,
Because my wreck won't pass this year's inspection.
I can cross the desert sand, or any piece of land,
Just point out here and there and give me a direction.
I'm paid nowhere near enough, to put up with all this stuff,
And the CO says I don't get paid for thinking.
Sergeants push me to the end, and then on around the bend,
Too proud to cry, I settle down to drinking.
I can't afford a spouse, but I have one...and a house,
Who would think that such a gal could love a soldier?
I can't tell her, or you, why I live the way I do,
The pages of my life filed in a folder.
I gripe, but call me I'll come running, or marching to the drumming,
If you need my life, I guess that's what I'll give.
Like other soldiers gone to war, who paid the price before,
The price placed on the life we want to live.
I can't say that I'll be brave, when the flags begin to wave,
Tattered, ripped, and torn by deadly fire.
I can only say that I, hope to give it my best try,
If I claimed any more I'd be a liar.
I'm a soldier dressed in green, often looked at, seldom seen,
Please spare a moment now to see me well.
For there might come a day, when I'll be called away,
To spend a tour in someplace close to Hell.
And, I might just not come back, when I carry off my pack,
To an unknown place somewhere around the earth.
So, stop and give a smile, that I can take with me a while,
Cause money cannot measure what I'm worth.
- Donovan Baldwin
29 March 1982
'Soldier' - An Original Poem by Donovan Baldwin
Labels: being a soldier, donovan baldwin, poem, poem about a soldier, poetry
