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As I head for this battle,
I know I’ll have to fight,
But God please, please protect me,
Each day and every night.
We know that they are terrorist,
And what they believe is wrong,
So why are there people,
Who think we don’t belong?
In my heart I hate no man,
Nor I curse him ‘neath my breath,
But every time I fire my gun,
It will always mean life or death.
TITLE: Untitled: For My Marine
THE STORY: My best friend is a LCPL in the USMC. He means the world to me, probably more than he will ever know. And one day he called me and told me that he found out that he’d be going overseas, probably around the beginning of next year. We talked for a while and then he had to get back to work. And I was left to decipher my thoughts, which were going about a mile a minute! I was sitting in a restaurant and I didn’t have any paper. So I grabbed an extra napkin and the sharpie marker out of my purse. And I sat there and wrote this poem for him. I didn’t really give it a title, so I just called it “Untitled: For My Marine”… And I was hoping I could post it on your site. Please let me know either way!
Father's Day
This past Father's Day I figured would be like any other. But my nineteen year old daughter surprised me to no end when she included the following in my Father's Day card. This was read at the funeral of a Marine killed in Iraq. I do not know who wrote it, but as a Vietnam vet I must say it is one of the very few times she saw me with sand in my eyes. All I can say is read it. I think the message will speak to all who reads it.
I sit in my shiny new office at my beautiful new desk and I want to scream
I want to scream so loud that everyone within a hundred miles hears the tearing of my vocal cords
I want to slam my fist into the walls of that shiny office again and again until my blood mixes with the crumbling plaster
Here is a poem that I wrote when I was in the DEP myself. It means more to me now than it ever did.
By: Lisa Spencer, proud wife of Cpl Jason Spencer Wpns Co 3/25 loving mother of Sydney,9, Dylan,6, and Dakota,2 praying until he comes home safe
It’s a crazy world we live in
Surrounded by cruelty and strife
We all need heros to belive in
Role models who live a good life
Hidden Heroes
I almost missed him.
He was hidden in humility,
an unobtrusive old man,
handing out sale papers.
Standing off to the side,
just inside the entrance,
corralling wayward shopping carts,
supplementing his survival.
I noticed his hat,
the one with all the buttons
and concealed in the clutter,
the eagle, globe and anchor.
You’re off again there bro,
To train for the Corps,
The last I saw of you,
Was from the closing of a Door.
Becoming one of the Few,
As you train there all day long,
As you sit there and read this,
Just be glad I’m not singing a song.
They’ll teach you how to Fight,
And even how to kill,
But your absence from home,
Is a hole that no one can fill.
They volunteer country in mind
only wishing to speed up time
fight is the only thing on their mind
yet They train for hours to find
they are the Military’s best find
Of to WAR they go rifle in hand
Fighting until there is an end
an end that isnt seen by many men
They try their best only to find
some people at home arent so kind
yet they press on with hope on their mind
that all at home will find
that they are there protecting
the very freedom they provide.
Heaven?s full of heroes
who sacrificed their lives
in service to our Country
so that Liberty survives.
Uniforms of blue or gray,
khaki or olive green;
skin of every color;
young and old and in between.
They fought in many places ?
spanning history and time.
Flags wave in their honor still;
in tribute, church bells chime.
This is a poem written by Erin Walker who is engaged to Sgt. Justin D. Cox. (His Unit are Combat Engineers based out of Folsom, Pa.). Justin is a Reservist who recently went active with the Marines, as he feels this is his calling to serve his Country. Shortly after returning back home from his 2nd tour in Iraq (10-04) Justin had seen the ultimate…the loss of brothers and one badly wounded from a daisy chained car bomb while out on patrol. (Justin had served 2 tours in Iraq and not yet reached the age of 21). His fianc?, Erin Walker, was going to college and was given an assignment from her English Literature class. Not to get political, her assignment was to take any opening line from poet Allen Ginsberg, and then finish the poem with any topic of her choice. The attached ending to his poem, "Howl" is her work. It is her desire to honor her friends and fianc?'s 'brothers' who have either given their all or were wounded in the War in Iraq.
Some added notes about Sgt. Cox and his family: