A Warrior’s Worry
By Jim Rambo
The President came to visit last week.
He’s been with me before
And like millions of others who stop by
He doesn’t even know my name.
They pay homage without knowledge
Of me, the man, a devoted husband, once skin and bones.
They prefer now not to know.
It’s easier that way.
No longer a man of ambition, appetites and loves,
I’m a symbol to be honored and cherished instead
As the son of all mothers and fathers, the golden ones;
Whose sons’ blood was shed freely from our nation’s veins.
The clicking of shined heels and cleats is unending.
The vigil’s the same over head, no matter the weather.
Pride and grief remain my uniformed companions
Day by day…year after year, here in the quiet of Virginia.
My worry is not for myself
Or for the role I dutifully fill
But for the future immediate;
New children, who will march to follow us millions already gone.
I long to symbolize peace
And quiet among nations.
I prefer standing for life and not honored death
But it won’t soon pass, I can see
But I will forever and full-of-hope remain
The Unknown Soldier
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