THE FINAL INSPECTION OF A SOLDIER
The Soldier stood and faced God,
Which must always come to pass.
He hoped his shoes were shining,
Just as brightly as his brass.
"Step forward now brave Soldier,
How shall I deal with you?
Have you always turned the other cheek?
Or to My Church, have you been true?"
The soldier squared his shoulders and said,
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't.
Because those of us who carry guns,
Can't always be a saint.
I've had to work most Sundays,
And at times my talk was tough.
And sometimes I've been violent,
Cause the world I've tried to protect,
is awfully rough.
But, I never took a penny dear Lord,
That wasn't mine to keep...
Though I worked a lot of overtime,
When the bills just got too steep.
And I never passed a cry for help,
Though at times I shook with fears.
And sometimes, God, forgive me,
I've wept unmanly tears.
I know I don't deserve a place,
Among the people here.
Noones ever wanted me around,
Except to calm their fears.
If you've a place for me dear Lord,
It needn't be so grand.
I never expected or had too much,
But if you don't, I'll understand.
There was a silence all around the throne,
Where the saints had often trod.
As the Soldier waited quietly,
For the judgment of his God.
"Step forward now brave Soldier,
You've borne your burdens well.
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,
You've done your time in Hell."
