For the Soljaz
 

The Final Inspection

The soldier stood and faced God,

Which must always come to pass,

He hoped his shoes were shining,

Just as brightly as his brass,



"Step forward now, you soldier,

How shall I deal with you?

Have you always been faithful to God?

To your comrades have you been true?"



The soldier squarded his shoulders and said,

"No Lord, I guess I ain't

Because those of us that carry guns,

Can't always be a saint.



I've had to work most Sundays,

And at times my talk was tough.

And sometimes I've been violent,

Because the world is always rough.



But, I never took a penny,

That wasn't mine to keep.

Though I worked a part-time job,

When the bills got just too steep.



And I never passed a cry for help,

Though at times I shook with fear.

And sometimes, God, Forgive me,

I've wept unmanly tears.



I know I don't deserve a place,

Among the people here.

They seemed not to want me around,

Except to calm their fears.



If you've a place for me here, Lord,

It needn't be so grand.

I never expected or had too much,

Be it ever so humble, I'll understand"



There was a silence all around the throne,

Where the saints had often trod.

As the soldier waited quietly

For the judgement of his God.



"Step forward now, you soldier,

You've borne your burdens well.

Walk Peacefully on Heavens streets,

You've done your time in hell,"

-Author Unknown

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