Robert S. Baldwin


Up the dusty road they went, their left,
As if to war they were sent, their right,
With uniforms pressed and starched, left, right,
Stepping proudly as they marched, left, right.

Into war they moved their stride, there left,
Feeling fears they could not hide, that’s right!
Soldiers dropping by their side, they fight,
Sinking feelings deep and wide, they’re left.

Victory for us they sought, that’s right,
Shooting, spilling blood they fought, what’s left?
Remembering, all that they were taught, who’s right?
Bleeding for the ticket bought, what’s right?

On the foreign fields their dreams, they left,
Growing up or so it seems, not right,
While the gold at home still gleams, it’s left,
Inner voices left to scream, what’s right!

Home they came from where were sent, their left,
Stepping proudly as they went, their right,
Going to familiar places, left, right,
Seeing people hide their faces, not right!