mortyfin's blog: "The first blog"

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 turned the other cheek? 
To My Church have you been true?" 

The soldier squared his shoulders and said, 
"No, Lord, I guess I ain't 
Because those of us who 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 awfully rough. 

But, I never took a penny 
That wasn't mine to keep... 
Though I worked a lot of overtime 
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 never wanted 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, 
But if you don't, I'll understand." 

There was a silence all around the throne 
Where the saints had often trod 
As the soldier waited quietly, 
For the judgment of his God, 

"Step forward now, you soldier, 
You've borne your burdens well, 
Walk peacefully on Heaven's streets, 
You've done your time in Hell."