Tossed into an unknown world

With nothing but a small pack

Nestled on his back

A gun in his hands

And hope in his heart

He was nothing but a small country boy



He remembers the smells and sounds of home

His momma's pies in the oven

And the animals whine for food



He's here on a small Island

That fills him with dread and fear

Smoke from the tanks drown out the cherry pie

The machine guns loud roar

Interrupts his dreaming

Sending him back to war

He's paralyzed, watching

His brothers fall



He stares into the slanted eyes

Of a Japanese boy

Who was tossed into a man's war



His mother's words ring in his ears

"Do whats right, I'll be here

When you come home."



He swallows the smoky air

Running past the boy

Ignoring the blood stained beach



But a stray bullet

Peirce's his heart

Warmness oozes over his

Battered uniform

He falls in honor,

Dead for his country



A cross is hung in his town

Remembering the small country boy

Who died on the small island

Of Iwo Jima