This is written for my dad, who's off delivering supplies and troops to Iraq.
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A Soldier

He drew his sword in many ways
He thanked god for his bread
He sailed away to fight a war
In a distant land, far from his bed.

And he knew that tomorrow
Didn't give him guarantee
So he prayed and cried and said goodbye
Before he sailed over the sea.

He reached the shore of this foreign land
Thousands of miles from his home
He was faced with sad destruction
And he felt so all alone.

"God please forgive me," he prayed
"For this thing that I must do."
And he picked his gun up off the ground
And went to see the battle through.

The battle is not won
Though he fought long and brave
He still has more to fight for
Freedom he has to save.

He know it's time to do his job
Though he may not see another day
It's his duty to God and Country
He's still fighting anyway.