The Last Solider
As I was living life pretty without a care
I fell down on my luck nobody was there
I thought all was lost until I was found
A mysterious figure took me from the ground
The lost solider I called him for he was a gift
All problems he'd fix and choices he'd shift
Like the rain from the heavens he was there
Spreading his own kind of blessing everywhere
The lost solider did not want to be seen
Giving us hope then fleeing the scene
Without warning you might be the next found
The lost solider might pick you up from the ground
He was my solider on that very long day
I last saw his shadow before he went away
Poetry by Coolaaron88
Read 669 times
Written on 2007-06-29 at 06:26
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Kathy Lockhart |