Which must always come to pass;

He hoped his shoes were shining bright,

Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, soldier,

How shall I deal with you?

Have you turned the other cheek?

To my church have you been true?"

The soldier squared his shoulders and said,

"No, Lord, I guess I ain't;

Because those of us who carry guns,

Can't always be a saint.

I've had to work most Sundays,

And at times my talk was rough;

I've had to break your rules my Lord,

Because the world is awfully tough.

But, I never took a thing

That wasn't mine to keep;

Though I worked a lot of overtime,

When the bills got just too steep.

And I never passed a cry for help,

Though at times I shook with fear;

And sometimes ... God forgive me,

I've wept unmanly tears.

I know I don't deserve a place

Among the people here;

They never wanted me around,

Except to calm their fears.

If you've a place for me here, Lord,

It needn't be so grand;

I never expected or had too much,

But if you don't, I'll understand."

There was a silence all around the throne,

Where the saints often trod;

As the soldier waited quietly,

For the judgement of his God.

"Step forward now, soldier,

You've borne your burdens well;

Come walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,

You've done your time in HELL!"

~ Author Unknown ~