tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-136522592011-11-18T12:29:34.526-05:00munciecarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15022703147252183444noreply@blogger.comBlogger11100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13652259.post-1118712924039029542005-06-13T20:35:00.000-05:002007-02-24T09:34:31.836-05:00A soldier died and stood before God, as must always come to pass.<br />He hoped his shoes were shining just as brightly as his brass.<br /><br />The Lord said, "Soldier, how shall I deal with you?<br />Have you always turned the other cheek,<br />To my church have you been true?"<br /><br />The soldier squared his shoulders and said,<br />"No, Lord, I guess I ain't,<br />'Cause those of us that carry guns can't always be a saint.<br />I've had to work most Sundays, at times my talk was tough,<br />And sometimes I was violent 'cause this world is awfully rough,<br />But I never took a dime that wasn't mine to keep,<br />Although I worked a lot of overtime<br />When the bills just got too steep.<br />I know I don't deserve a place among the people here,<br />They never wanted me around except to calm their fears.<br />But if You have a place for me, it needn't be so grand,<br />I never had or expected much, but if You don't, I'll understand."<br /><br />And there was a silence around the throne<br />Where saints had often trod,<br />As the soldier waited for the judgment of his mighty God.<br />Suddenly the Lord said, "Step forward, soldier!<br />You've borne your burdens well.<br />Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,<br />You've done your time in hell."<br /><br />By: Peter A. Hornbach<br /><br />From the <a href="http://poetry.com/Publications/display.asp?ID=P8329470&BN=999&PN=1">Poetry.com</a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/13652259-111871292403902954?l=munciecarll1.blogspot.com' alt='' /></div>munciecarlhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15022703147252183444noreply@blogger.com10