Taken for Granted.

I've been laughing with my friends, it's nearly three in the morning.
Just another all nighter complete, simply because that's what we wanted.
I'm ashamed to say, that I've only come to think of this now.
That our fun, our freedom, our laughter is so ignorantly flaunted.


Somewhere across the sea, a man is dusting off the sand.
He stands tall, he stands brave, and I can't feel anything but helpless.
I stay up for hours, doing nothing but enjoying my time on this Earth.
He fights for every second, standing for those long hours, endless.


I'm only now sitting down at my desk, a keyboard under my fingertips.
I read the accounts of soldiers, and their families while I prepare to write,
While he reads a letter from a loved one, a friend,
All while he only prepares and prays to survive the next fight.


I'm looking at my hands, I just washed them and they're clean.
He can hardly feel them, gripping so tightly he can feel them aching.
I can smell the shampoo in my hair, I've just finished my shower.
He hasn't felt hot water for days, his skin is chafing.


Glancing at my phone, I noticed I have quite a few missed calls.
I've so easily passed and ignored on the phone calls from one to another.
His throat is dry, it's almost to difficult to even speak.
The only communication he has is that man to his left and his right, his Brothers.


My Father is in the other room, just across the hall way.
Such a short distance away, nothing but a slender isle.
His closest relative is in the photos and the letters he receives.
Their actual selves being so far away, stretched over thousands of miles.


We're all taking this home, this world they've given us for granted.
And I'm no exception, I complain quite often myself, I have to admit.
He never complains when that order if finally received,
Because that's his job, his life that he has volunteered to commit.


I woke up this morning in a comfortable bed,
Then I spent twenty minutes only deciding on what I was going to wear.
He woke this morning in a hole he dug himself in the same uniform he wore for the last month,
Opening his eyes under the goggles that reflected a foreign sun's blinding glare.


I go to school everyday, and face my biggest fears.
Fears that only consist of average grades and a handful of tests.
He faces the enemy every day, who's only intention is to kill him.
If we all took just a second to see this, we would know we're truly blessed.


We all cry from time to time, most of it seems slightly wasted.
His face is so filthy that if he were to cry, I doubt you could tell.
All around me I hear the pitiful, pointless problems of our generation.
All he can hear is the chamber of his rifle while it releases each shell.


So please, tell me everything and anything that I could do.
I can't just stay here mindlessly and do nothing but saunter.
Knowing that here someone is unsure if he's coming home,
Whether it be a friend or Wife, son or daughter.


I'll scream as loud as I can, I won't stop shouting.
And I'll just keep on hoping that this man can hear me.
This soldier, this defender of a home where no one knows him,
That I would be there besides him if I could be.


I can only hope that one day this will reach you.
Maybe by some chance it'll lift off this single computer screen.
And by any way possible, land, sea, or by air,
That you'll read this some day, and realize how much you really mean-


To me, To us.
To all of those waiting for you back home.
But while you fight, while you serve and protect us, Soldier.
Remember, you are never alone.





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