There once was a soldier,
a boy of eighteen.
Wanting to be a hero,
he joined Uncle Sam.
Oh, how they glorified war!
But how wrong they were.
So naive, so innocent.
Never did he know.
Then came the time,
he had to go and serve.

Six months went by.
Shot his first man in the first,
and killed one soon after.
Almost got blown up in the second,
but his friend did instead.
Blew up an encampment in the third,
found out it contained women and children.
Got shot in the leg in the fourth,
almost lost it from infection.
Was taken captive in the fifth,
and saw his team die around him.
Was rescued in the six,
but not without scars.

He wrote a letter to his young wife, pregnant with his first,
telling her of his thoughts,
‘I was wrong, love,’ he wrote,
‘How are we different from them?
Killing innocents and not caring.
Are they the animals, or are we?
I’ll be home soon. I love you.’
He sealed the envelope with a sigh.
Never did that letter arrive.
The base was attacked, killing many.
Including the young soon-to-be father,
of a beautiful baby girl.
Never did he say goodbye to his wife, to his baby girl.

The letter from the Army fell from her hand,
as tears fell from her eyes.
She cried into her mother’s shoulder,
mourning the loss of her lover.
Mourning over the fact,
that she lied to a man that loved her.
The child wasn't his, it was his brother’s.
Guilt filled her heart,
during the rest of her days.

Many years later,
she laid on her deathbed.
A young man came in,
after years of trying to find her.
He said he had a letter,
addressed to her from her late husband.
As she read it, she cried.
More guilt filled her at her deception.
And she died soon after,
the letter falling from her hands.

She prayed to God,
that He would forgive her for her sins.
She prayed to her husband,
that he wouldn't hate her.
But that was too much to hope for,
so she loathes herself for all eternity.