'Twas the night before christmas , they lived all alone,
in a one bedroom house made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney with presents to give,
and to see just who in this house did live.
I looked all about a strange sight I did see,
no tinsel no presents not even a tree.
no stockings by mantel just boots filled with sand;
on the wall hung pictures of far distance lands.
with medals and badges awards of all kinds,
a sober thought came through my mind.
for this house was different, it was dark and dreary,
I found the home of a solder once I could see clearly. *
the solder lay sleeping, silent, alone,
curled up on the floor in this on bedroom home.
the face was not gentle, the in such disorder,
not how i pictured a united states solder.
was this the hero of whom I just read?
curled on a poncho, the floor a bed?
I realized the families that I saw this night,
owed their lives to these soldiers who were willing to fight.
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Submission Name: A Solider's Poem
