There is a soilder
In our fair city.
His name is Fred
and his wife is Misty.
He sits in his wheel chair
For he cannot walk.
He said in the war,
His back wass shot.
One day he was sitting,
Upon his chair.
I came and looked
At his legs in the chair.
I asked him "Dear soider,
Do you regret it?"
And he looked at me with smiling eyes.
He opened his curled mouth and spoke,
"Dear sweet child,
I may be wonded,
But if i stood today,
I woud not be here now"
"I would wear a different ring,
And be a different man.
I would be standing with someone else
Then sit with my love."
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What Life is Like
PoetryLife has many wonders, choices, and consiquences. Here are different stories of those things with different people.
