A Tribute

The sound of soldiers tramping feet,
Echoes loudly in the street,
Marching, marching to the beat,
of the drum sounds in the heat.
Marching, Marching, men so young,
Marching, marching, heralds unsung,
Tramping, tramping, to right the wrong,
yielding lives for their country's throngs.

Soldiers fight in battles sore,
Never knowing the full score,
struggling, struggling, to keep their humor,
fighting off the horrid rumor,
of the dead, now fallen friends,
and the fear there is no end.

So this tribute we give to you,
Unknown friends who died for me,
That I may live in liberty,
A great, grave price, so I am free.
My heart is filled with thankfulness,
for all you gave, for my happiness!


"No greater love hath any man than he lay down his life for a friend"


A Tribute (c)2001 David L. Clingerman