WHERE ARE THE SOLDIERS


Where are the soldiers who march in line?
Where are the soldiers every color and kind?
Where are the soldiers who made their moms cry?
Where are the pilots who face death in the sky?

Where are the soldiers born brave of heart?
Where are the girls and boys that part?
Serving our country with their future on the line
Battling the enemies of freedom of mind.

All of us are soldiers with missions of our own
We do what we do as history is sown.
Support our troops who we love and adore
Support our troops with prayers, letters and more.

Where are the soldiers so far, far away?
How many will perish no one can say.
Where are the soldiers we love night and day?
Deployed world over to keep evil at bay.


By Conservative Poet
Tom Zart
Most Published Poet
On The Web

nice Tom

I like it! I need to get back to writeing poetry. Perhaps I shall post one soon!

NO, NO, NO Zart is a plague upon the earth! This is the story of a million monkeys with typewriters!

Hhhmmm,Harry my keen sense of sarcasm detects that you need to expand on your reply to that "poem".Are you familiar with this guy?

This message has been edited. Last edited by: nvrbtdt,

He just thinks that he is God's gift to poetry and will call some unpatriotic if they do not like his "art." To me, and people who know poetry (I am no expert), he is a fool.

I guess poetry appreciation is akin to art appreciation...you know what you like.

Thanks to all for your time and reply.

Tom Zart


WAR IS THE GREATEST PLAGUE OF MAN


As war is fought it takes charge
And events spin out of control.
The madness of men can alter the soil
Which nourishes the roots of their soul.

Many things will forever change
Far more then wished to be.
As the wrath of war starts to destroy
Those things we fight to keep free.

War is the greatest plague of man
Religion, state, and sanity.
Any scourge is more preferred
Than the one which disables humanity.

When war breaks out, boundaries change
And all who die are a token
Of the rage that must run it's course
Before words of peace are spoken.

War I hate, though not men, flags nor race
But war itself with its ugly face.
When we lose faith in the brave, which die
Then we're not fit to greet those who cry.

What distinguishes war isn't death
But that man is slain by fellow man.
Crushed by cruelty and injustice
With his enemy's murderous hand.

War tends to punish the punishers
So the losers won't suffer alone.
The essence of war is but violence
Till the survivors come marching home.

Sometimes it's hard to defend what's right
Sometimes we're forced to rise up and fight.
Sometimes we survive, while others must die
Sometimes never knowing the reason why.

The rush of combat is a natural buzz
Caused by fear, leaving nothing as it was.
Hunting one another like wild game
Without a shortage of those to blame.

Sometimes victory comes too slow or quick
Sometimes the cost on both sides is sick.
Sometimes God is asked to intervene
To help stop the savage from being so mean.

War is a hell we visit before death
Fueled by the whisper of the devil's breath.
There must be a reason man destroys man
But why it is so, I can't understand.


By Conservative Poet
Tom Zart
Most Published Poet
On The Web

TOM ZART’S RADIO POEMS

You can hear all of Tom Zart’s 340 poems
of love, war, faith and more 24-7 on web radio at

http://internetvoicesradio.com/Arch-TomZart.htm

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