Fallen Soldier

By Ryan S

Waking up and realizing

He was in a different place

Made him stop to take a minute

And break out of his daze

Thinking he was alone

Reminiscing was his thought

Of all the things he’d loved

And all the things he’d fought

Remembering good times and bad

He thought about his life

Of how it’d been taken swiftly

As though cut off by a knife

Thinking of his name

Was it Rick May?

He thought surely,

“Yes, April 8th was my day.”

A dream took over

One of great flights

Of soaring through the sky

As if a shooting star in the night

He remembered one last thing

While his mortal body lay rotten,

A soldier is never truly dead

Until he is forgotten.

And he won’t be.