Mark I. Kirkmeyer


Camouflage does not hide the hard face
Caring and concern there is a trace
Aged with darkness and the truth
The soldier is no longer the child of youth

The soldier stands for what he knows is right
Sometimes having to deliver it with might
The soldier has taken on a great chore
To protect the people next door

Eyes peering like a Eagle prepared to strike
Yet distant and some unknown sight
Scares some visible some not
The badges of battles fought

Having viewed the evils of war
Putting it behind is the soldier’s chore
It is easy to turn on the warrior
The Devil is the Earth’s ruler

Hilltop have been moved before those eyes
Make-up scared from dead friends cries
Uniform matted brown dried blood
A badge of honor for brotherhood

Whether screaming through the sky,
Like an bird of prey going by,
Slowly moving above the ground,
A humming bird enemy found,

Covered in mud, dust, sweat, and grace
Fighting the foe face to face
A rolling deck on the wave
They are all honored brave

The soldier is tasked with granting safety,
protecting freedom, and allowing prosperity
The soldier is young no longer innocent
Faced the evil where the soldier went.

The soldier accepts the life
Placing duty before husband and wife
Children and family are nice
But during duty must be ice.

She was the high school beauty queen
Every teenage boys dream
Captured, imprisoned, and tortured
To protect a life style to nurture.

She is the single mother of a pre-school son
Loved by her family every one
Captured, imprisoned, tortured and killed
To stop evil plans to be fulfilled

He was a knight of the sky
Cocky and arrogant but all know why
His steed ripped away silk to the ground
Twelve years he has not been found

He was an upcoming baseball player
He received a call for something greater
To defend his adopted home and bear arm
From those who would bring her harm

He was a young man with something to prove
His father, an old soldier, to get to approve
Learned for himself what Hell was about
The approval of others he’d live without

He is the man seated in the oval office
His signature on a document concise
When brought news a soldier dies
Alone, behind closed doors, he cries.

She is the lonely lady next door
Her children at play and doing chore
Working to keep a smiling face
As her spouse is in a distant place

He is the little boy who salutes
The riderless horse with backwards boots
To young to understand his parent gone
In the casket on the Cason

He is the doctor mad at the world
Because he can not save the wounded girl
Sworn to heal never to harm
Stuck in a war that holds no charm.

He is the priest giving last rights
To our Nation’s fallen Knights
They have given their all
To answer Freedom’s call.

Submitted for the April 2003 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “Portrait of a Soldier