The soldier stood and faced his God

Which must always come to pass

He hoped his shoes were shining

Just as brightly as his brass.

"Step forward now, you soldier,

How shall I deal with you?

Have you always turned the oth

er 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 tough,

And sometimes I've been violent,

Because the world is awfully rough. ,

But, I never took a penny ,

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 had often trod As the Soldier waited quietly, ,

for the judgment of his God, ,

"Step forward now, you soldier, ,

You've borne your burdens well, ,

Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets,,

You've done your time in Hell." ,

copyright © 2000 by Jackie Pierce,